All's Fair In Love & War
by HelenT
Summary: AU. Sam did leave the Air Force after the first Abydos mission, but gets enticed back to participate in the new programme.  Colonel Jack O’Neill, suspicious about her motives for resigning, is not so happy at having her foisted on him.
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: All's Fair in Love & War

AUHOR: Helen Taft

PAIRING: Sam/Jack

GENRE: AU/Angst/Action

RATING: Mature (To be on the safe side)

SUMMARY: **AU**. Sam did leave the Air Force after the first Abydos mission, but gets enticed back by General Hammond to participate in the new programme. Colonel Jack O'Neill, suspicious about her motives for resigning, is not so happy at having yet another civilian scientist foisted on him as part of the deal.

NOTES: This in no way relates to the alternate universe where Jack dies, or any as seen on the show. Also, a few lines of dialogue have been taken from the very first episode; other than that though this is an entirely different scenario.

SPOILERS: None.

FEEDBACK: Loved and appreciated.

DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and the characters are the property of MGM and the production team. There is no infringement intended and no profit made.

THANKS to Cindy for the beta!

NOTES: This is another old one was way back that I'm posting here as a permanent home. A few have complained of eye strain with me posting large fics in one chapter so this is going to be posted in smaller chunks to accommodate that.

**PROLOGUE**

Sam was late, and fate was conspiring to make her later by throwing everyone in her path while she tried to make up time. Case in point, she dodged around a corporal carrying an armload of containers and nearly collided with a nurse. Pasting on a brief smile of apology, she hurried to catch up with her escort. _Damn it!_ One, she despised being late more now than when she'd still been in the Air Force; and two, this was an important meeting that, if handled right, could help her achieve an ambition that had been burning in her gut for three years now.

_Crap, crap, crap! Why couldn't everything have gone smoothly this morning? No, that wasn't quite right._ Everything had been peachy until she arrived at the first checkpoint. Her eyes turned glass-hard as she entered yet another elevator. Was it too much to ask that a top level security compound like this have its shit together on who they were and weren't expecting?

The cussing was unusual, even for a purely inner monologue, but she was irritated enough to need one or two as a vent. Stood beside her, Major Samuels shifted on his feet and slid her a curious look. Not feeling chatty, Sam ignored him in favour of the steam building in her head.

She'd taken such care with her appearance that morning, too. Picking the right suit that managed to be feminine and yet military crisp at the same time; she'd fussed over her hair and face to make it look like she hadn't done more than run a brush through the first and dashed some gloss on her lips.

It was probably all for nothing now.

Somehow she just knew they'd look at her, rushing into the briefing in her civvies, and peg her as another one of those irresponsible, unreliable civilians who didn't have the common courtesy to arrive on time. The elevator bumped to a gentle stop and once the doors had slid back, Samuels waved her to precede him out into the corridor. Putting one foot in front of the other, Sam's mind kept to the same track. They would be wrong of course. Was it her fault that the right paperwork hadn't been passed to the SF's at the security gate?

Grateful for the semi-sensible pumps and pants she was wearing, she lengthened her stride and tried to compose a dignified explanation as she was led along the maze of stark and utilitarian corridors of Cheyenne Mountain. It was no good; no matter which way she phrased it, her excuses would come off sounding horribly defensive and as if she was trying to pass the buck.

The already tense muscles in her shoulders tightened another notch and she could literally feel the flush glowing hotter in her cheeks. _Oh great, Sam, arrive there looking frazzled and flustered just to make a bad impression worse why don't you?_ It was a good point. Yanking back on her nerves, she caught up to Samuels as he stood ready to open the door to her destination. She'd finally arrived. Damp-palmed, she tugged her jacket down and smoothed a crooked lapel. With that done, and schooling her expression to calm and unruffled, she strode into the briefing room.

"Where's he transferring from?"

Catching the tail end of her introduction, minus her actual presence, Sam focused on General Hammond and said, "Sorry I'm late." Her smile was professional and she kept it brief and succinct, "There was a delay with security."

Reaching the table and a spare seat, she remained standing and looked across at the man who'd just asked where she was transferring from. Of course he'd assumed she was male and Air Force. Suppressing an eye roll, her first thought was that the photos in his file didn't do him justice. In person, he had an indefinable edge that age and experience only added to. Her second thought was that it was immediately obvious his reputation as an eccentric hard-ass was well earned.

_Oh Joy!_

Her spine stiffened. Not that she'd expected any different. Black-ops wasn't exactly renowned for turning men into Mr. Sensitive. Now, face-to-face with him, she was doubly glad she'd insisted on seeing the relevant personnel files immediately after accepting the job at the SGC, not to mention the candid conversations she'd had with her few remaining contacts who dug up some 'personal' views on the colonel. She had the advantage on him in that regard and Sam figured she was going to need every one of those she could get.

"_She_ isn't transferring from anywhere," she corrected him. "I'm a civilian scientific contractor." Holding out her hand across the table for him to shake it, she finished, "I take it you're Colonel O'Neill?"

His polite smile didn't reach watchful dark eyes. Silently, he took her hand and easily enveloped it with his large one. Irreverently, Sam recalled a saying about men with large hands and her eyes flared before she could squash the thought. Even after their hands dropped again, she could feel the imprint of his palm on hers.

"That would be me," he confirmed, adding with heavy emphasise, "_Dr._ Carter?"

So, it was beginning already. Her chin lifted to meet that challenge, "Call me Sam."

"Not Samantha?" piped up an amused voice further down the table. There were more sounds of choked amusement.

Sam was surprised when it was O'Neill who sent them a quelling look rather than General Hammond. Then rapid-fire, he introduced the other two men she hadn't met before. What he didn't know was that, thanks to those files, she did recognise them as Ferretti and Kawalski, two of O'Neill's first team members.

That done and locking gazes with her again, he nodded towards the empty seat and when she took the hint and sat, he asked her, "Do you have any idea what to expect when you walk through that Stargate, doctor?"

It was obvious he was going to seriously resist including her on his team and, also, that he wasn't going to call her Sam. So be it. She folded her hands on the table. "I was studying the 'gate technology for two years before Dr. Jackson deciphered the symbols and I've read your report on the first mission to Abydos. So, to answer your question, Colonel, yes, I think I have a pretty good idea."

Leaning forward to get everyone's attention, Kawalski's smirk clued her in. "I think what the Colonel is saying is, have you ever pulled out of a simulated bombing run in an F-16 at 8-plus G's?"

He clearly expected the answer not to be anything except a clear "No". Sam was proud of the fact that triumph didn't leak into either her expression or voice. "Yes."

There was a resounding silence. General Hammond, who she guessed had been letting a few things get aired upfront, confirmed to the room as a whole, "Dr. Carter was an Air Force Captain until a year ago." He eyeballed Colonel O'Neill down the length of the table. "A combat-experienced officer with over a 100 hours flight-time logged during the Gulf War, I might add."

Sam had been watching the Colonel out of the corner of her eye and, seeing suspicion leap into those brown eyes, she couldn't resist killing two birds with one stone. Mimicking Kawalski, she said "I think what the General's saying is that, despite my reproductive organs being on the inside, I can still handle anything you can."

She didn't expect him to take it on the chin and he didn't. This time his smile was anything but polite. "Oh, this has nothing to do with you being a woman. I _like_ women. I just have a little problem with scientists."

"Astrophysicist if you want specifics," she shot back, still ultra civil and relaxing now that he'd latched onto the new topic and not asked the question she'd been dreading.

"Which means?"

"Which means she is smarter than you are, Colonel," interjected Hammond. "Especially in matters related to the Stargate."

Then obviously tiring of the topic, he closed it with a firm, "Dr. Carter's assignment on this mission is not an option, Colonel."

Subsiding with tossed-up hands, O'Neill got back to the briefing and handed out a series of notes. Sam was handed hers with exaggerated care, which told her far more clearly than words could have, that the topic was only closed in this room.

Her jaw was so tight she had to forcibly unlock it. Glancing down at the blue card-bound pages, she sucked in a long breath and thought to herself, _bring it on, Colonel, bring it on_! After the last time, Sam was _damned_ if she was going to let anyone get her shunted aside.

Jack's rap on General Hammond's office door was a little sharper than he'd intended. Wincing and hoping he hadn't already botched his chances of getting a decent hearing off his new commander, he opened it with a lot more circumspection after being invited to enter. The man himself was seated behind the wide expanse of a desk and signing a sheet perched atop a pile of other paperwork. Now _there_ was a task he didn't envy, or the desk for that matter. Desks came with telephones and a whole lotta politics. He only hoped he wasn't about to be made a victim of some of that crap himself.

If so he hoped to find out now and fix it before he was stuck with it- her.

"Sir," he nodded and after receiving one in return, stood waiting at relaxed attention in front of Hammond's desk. For once he didn't mind the wait, as it gave him a chance to take the man's measure, or try to anyway. Bald and stout, George S. Hammond, two-star USAF general, had managed to see through the holes in his previous Abydos report and manipulate him into a position where he'd have to confess the truth. That kind of perception and wiliness made for one very wary Jack O'Neill.

General West hadn't questioned it; he'd looked relieved actually. He still couldn't figure out how the hell Hammond had seen through it all. It'd been like he'd known that Daniel was still alive. Impossible, and yet he couldn't shake the suspicion that Hammond had got a kick out of tripping him up.

Finished with writing his signature, the General looked up and a knowing smile tugged briefly before he dismissed it. "Colonel, if you've come here looking for a way to dissuade me from including Dr. Carter in your team, then you're wasting your time."

The inference was that he would also be wasting the General's time, but Jack was happy to ignore hints that didn't suit him. "General, feel free to tell me if I'm barking up the wrong alien here, but isn't your missing sergeant an attractive woman?"

Visibly bemused, Hammond frowned at the topic, "I beg your pardon?"

"The only person taken by the aliens was a woman, and a pretty one, or so I'm told. What if she was taken for that very reason?" Seeing he wasn't exactly getting through, he held up a hand to ward off being shut down before he'd finished. "All I'm saying is that it's possible that taking an _extremely_ attractive civilian through the gate right now might be a bigger risk than we need."

"So, your only concern is for Dr. Carter's safety, is that it?"

"Uhm, yeah"

That didn't sound convincing even to his own ears. Grimacing, he was forced to admit, "Okay, no, not my only concern, but it still _is_ a risk."

"Sergeant Miller could simply have been perceived as an easier target given her position on the ramp." argued Hammond, folding his hands on the desk. "Perhaps they were looking for a means of extracting information about Earth, in which case sex or attractiveness has no bearing."

"True." Jack was forced to admit.

_Damn! _

Theorising just wasn't his strong suit. During his shave-and-mirror run–through, he hadn't been able to counteract that argument when it'd occurred to him either. He'd had the vain hope that flying by the seat of his pants would gain him some inspiration. And hadn't that worked out great- not!

Sighing, Hammond leaned both elbows on his desk and then asked him directly, "What exactly _is_ your problem with Dr. Carter?"

Put on the spot like that, Jack stared and wondered, "_What part of 'extremely attractive' didn't the man not get?"_ Then he realised that fact didn't have anything to do with it. He'd gotten so caught up in stopping her from getting on his team, that he'd forgotten to analyse _why_he didn't want her there. The problem wasn't that he'd started drooling on sight, even if he had. Hell, he'd worked in the field with women before and some of them had been plenty pleasing on the eyes. Of course, he'd been a happily married man at the time, but that was beside the point. At forty seven, he was old enough to control his libido.

"I don't trust her." he blurted.

Hammond's frown dug some serious grooves in his forehead, "Care to tell me why not?"

Uncomfortable, Jack shrugged and this time the words flowed, "With all due respect, and maybe I'm wrong, Sir, but the timing fits. She left because she couldn't get West to agree to her going through the 'gate on the first mission, didn't she?"

Meaning, she hadn't been a career officer, but a brainiac with both eyes locked firmly on the career ladder. That was fine, but he didn't want her in the field with him. Maybe it was old-fashioned, but he preferred having a dedicated soldier watching his six and not someone on the lookout for promotional prospects and pitching a tantrum when she didn't get it. Even if she'd left the military, that kind of attitude didn't just fade.

"She was supposed to have gone with you last time," Hammond looked darned uncomfortable with the topic, but was obviously compelled for some obscure reason to continue. "But, General West changed his mind at the very last minute while she was en-route."

That titbit took a second to digest. He tried to imagine the leggy blonde from the briefing room clubbing her way past a platoon of Ra's Jaffa and failed. Well, failed if you excluded a microsecond of fantasy involving Ra's slave-girl outfits, which was all the more reason not to include her in this second mission. All of that aside, they were supposedly pursuing hostile aliens and he needed another scientist to mollycoddle like he needed a hole in the head.

"That's tough, but we all get disappointed." Jack was obdurate, "It doesn't mean we throw in the towel and take our ball home, General."

Sitting back, Hammond drummed his fingers on the desk's top. "I understand your concern and even applaud your reasoning, Son, but I want the best we have on this thing and Sam Carter is the best. There is nobody else with her detailed technical know-how of the Stargate. We need her."

"So, let her stay in the SGC?" suggested Jack with another, more casual shrug. Hey, he was male enough to appreciate that eye candy around the place was more than fine. So long as she stayed _here_.

"I tried that," said Hammond heavily, "and got turned down. Off-world duty was non-negotiable."

Even for a man with his self-confessed limitations, when it came to reading between the lines, he got the message loud and clear. She'd blackmailed her way into going through the Stargate this time. Infuriated, Jack opened his mouth to speak and then wised up and shut it again. He had no choice. It seemed like the good doctor had the upper hand. _Like hell!_

It was the strangest thing, getting into a uniform again. On the one hand, it felt like coming home again, so much so that a lump formed in Sam's throat, but on the other hand, it was also a reminder of bitter, bitter times that she'd spent the last few years trying to forget and failing miserably. When something becomes so much of your life, pulling free of it can feel like losing an essential piece of yourself. That is exactly what it felt like after resigning, like she'd lost an arm, or her heart.

The organ in question was currently trying to jump out of her chest. "Oh, yeah, I'm conflicted all right." she muttered, tucking in her t-shirt and then tightening the slack on the belt before clicking it securely.

When General Hammond had first contacted her and asked for an urgent meeting on a matter of national security, Sam had felt like the bottom had dropped out of her world, and then fitted itself right back in such a way as to tell her it had been wrong for a very long time. _Oh, yeah like that was news_. The word Stargate had popped into her head and she'd been standing there struck dumb with the phone glued to her ear. He hadn't said it of course, not then, but she'd leapt to that conclusion anyway.

As leaps go, it hadn't involved faith so much as logic. She'd spent two, solid years working on the Stargate project to get it up and running to the point of actual use. Twenty-four-hour days, with naps in between, had been the norm at one point, but she'd loved every minute of it and so hadn't cared. Curiosity, the promise of seeing the theories of brilliant minds and a few of her own realised, mixed with sheer stubbornness, had got her through. When others fell by the wayside, disillusioned by the lack of progress, and moved onto other assignments, she'd toughed it out and continued to search for answers to questions she was only just beginning to understand herself.

Until the day she'd sat in a general's office while he smirked at her and dismissively blew off the fact that he'd sent the team through four hours earlier than she'd been told she was to go through it. West had done it deliberately of course. He'd claimed she hadn't been contactable. That much had been true. She'd been sitting on a plane somewhere between Washington and Colorado with a huge, excited grin on her face.

The plummeting comedown from that excitement had left her dazed. Then it had sent her a little crazy. Her resignation had hit her CO's desk the next day. Sam had lost count over the last three years of how many times she'd wondered what might have happened if she'd just taken some leave, gone to a range and shot the hell out of man-shaped paper targets; she could have got into a bar fight or found a mountain to climb and screamed her lungs out at the sky…anything to relieve the storm of anger roiling inside; anything, other than tossed in her career.

O'Neill's expression after being told she'd once been in the Air Force flashed into her mind. Yeesh, she could practically _see_ him jumping to conclusions. Tension made her fingers clumsy and the buckles on the thigh holster strap resisted being closed.

Finally done with the buckle, Sam straightened and blew out a breath that disturbed the short, blonde hair that had fallen to flop over her forehead. Shutting her locker, she told it, "Yeah, well, it's just too bad. I'm here to stay and he's just got to get used to it."

It had been pretty telling that Colonel O'Neill hadn't even known he'd been missing a team member a year ago. Not that she held a grudge against him for what happened. Why would she when he hadn't had anything to do with it? But that was then.

She'd bet everything she owned he'd been in Hammond's office sometime since the briefing, and doing his damndest to weasel out of taking her with him back to Abydos.

"Asshole!"

Luckily the locker room was empty and nobody could hear her mumbling to herself. Pulling on the camouflage jacket and strapping on the rest of her gear took a few minutes longer. Then bending down to swipe up the black helmet, she paused and it hit her.

God! She was finally going to get to do the one thing she'd dubbed her destiny three years ago. In an automatic defense against that bitter disappointment, it hadn't sunk in until this very moment. Her heart gave another little kick and, unbidden, Sam's mouth stretched into an ear-to-ear grin. She was here and who cared if O'Neill had issues. He could stuff them where the sun don't shine. _She was here!_

PART ONE

THREE WEEKS LATER

_Beep beep – beep beep._

Sam's eyes popped open and she rolled over to press the alarm's off button. With silence falling once again, she rolled back and stretched lazily. Today marked the beginning of her fourth week at the SGC and she was already seeing the difference in herself. Instead of feeling dull and listless first thing in the morning, she was wide awake and raring to go. Finished working the sleep kinks out of her body, one corner of her lips tilted into a contented smile. Relaxed and alert, she took a second to enjoy the buzz zinging through her system. The same buzz that had disappeared the day she'd resigned from the Air Force.

It felt good, no, better than good, she felt renewed. It didn't matter that she was still Dr Carter and not Captain Carter. Rank hadn't been anything more than a means of getting herself heard by the powers-that-be and since that wasn't an issue anymore, she didn't feel the loss. It was the work, the Stargate and the people that kept her interested and challenged. Emphasise on challenge for a certain colonel with attitude.

Sam's smile turned into a grimace. He certainly kept her on her toes. For a guy whose poker face could rival a blank sheet of paper, he was transparent about his rancour over her continuing presence on his team. He was so vocal, she'd half expected General Hammond to give in and assign her to another team. He could always use the excuse that he needed to balance out the military element of SG-1. Except, he hadn't and O'Neill continued to vent in his own little ways.

SG-1, they even had a proper designation. Tucking a hand behind her head on the pillow, excitement began to build and eclipsed her concerns. Travelling light years in seconds through a wormhole and re-materialising on another planet was a rush, but that was only the beginning of the adventure; then there was the possibility of what they'd find on the other side.

Okay, so the yield hadn't exactly been great so far, but they were just beginning their explorations. It really was unbeatable and liking most of her team mates only made it better. They were a bizarre bunch that was for sure: archaeologist, astrophysicist, Jaffa and ex-black ops colonel. That just made it more interesting though. Daniel was a peach, smart and sensitive, and Teal'c for all his size was a weirdly soothing influence.

Colonel O'Neill was the only black spot.

She turned pensive again, as often happened when her thoughts turned his way. She just wished she could figure out what it was that was bugging him so much about her. On missions she tried so hard to prove to him that she could be an asset; obeying orders to the letter, biting her lip instead of snapping back at him when he made some sly remark aimed at getting a rise out of her. The worst was when she'd think she was finally getting somewhere with him. A few times he'd looked at her with a quizzical look in those deep brown eyes, as if he wanted to ask her something. Catching it, she'd hold her breath hoping for some civil conversation, only to have her hopes dashed when he dismissed the moment with a flippant remark and then sauntered away.

That hurt because in every other respect he was a man to admire; a no-nonsense, get-the-job-done commander, who was loyal, steadfast, witty if you didn't mind a dose of sarcasm and willing to take on any comers threatening someone he felt he owed. Of course his negatives where pretty colourful, too. O'Neill had to be the most stubborn, intractable, irascible male she'd ever met. He'd practically adopted Teal'c and made sure the Jaffa was accepted, eventually, and yet he refused to give her the benefit of the doubt. It didn't make any sense. She wasn't _that_ hard to get along with.

She'd put it down to him being as dense as he sometimes appeared, but Sam was beginning to suspect that was a façade he liked to put up for God only knows what reason. She considered herself a good judge of character, but he eluded being button-holed, mores the pity. The only thing she was sure of was that something was festering away inside that head of his about her, but so far he was keeping it to himself. Sam just wished he'd keep his attitude that way, too.

Whether he was actually planning to or not, he was getting on her last nerve.

More than once over the last few weeks she'd seriously considered locking them both in a training room and telling him to do his worst. The idea held a certain appeal because if she beat him, he'd then have to stop treating her like a helpless civilian who didn't know one end of a rifle from another. Considering she was qualified up to Level 3 Advanced hand-to-hand that attitude ticked her off and then some. However, the downside to it, other than he'd accuse her, rightly, of being nuts was the possibility of a wholly different reaction to sustained physical contact.

That possibility was something she really didn't want to explore right now, or anytime soon.

Uncomfortable with the direction of her thoughts, she glanced towards the clock just as it changed to show 5:06. Given the early hour, the light filtering in from her closed curtains was minimal. With her furniture mere hulking shadows in the gloom, Sam felt the chill air on her bare arm. Not ready to get up yet, she retracted it under the covers and back to the warm nest she'd made during the night. The reprieve couldn't last long and knowing she had to brave the cold soon anyway, she made a mental note to change the timer on her heating and maybe buy some thicker and more encompassing nightwear.

Not surprisingly, the domestic drift of her thoughts didn't last long before returning to what was causing this particular buzz.

Today they were going through the stargate to P3X-595. The mission briefing was scheduled for oh-seven-thirty. Factoring in breakfast in the commissary and the required pre-mission exam from Dr Janet Frasier, she'd better get her skates on if she didn't want to give O'Neill the opportunity to offer some snide remarks. He never passed up an opportunity, not one.

That alone was enough to motivate her into finally throwing back the duvet to dash barefoot towards the shower. Twenty minutes later, she was chugging back a glass of cold milk and dressed in jeans, white shirt and red jacket with her hair still damp enough to darken the pure blond to burnished gold. Then glass rinsed, she snagged up her keys and with a bounce in her step headed for the front door and her car.

The drive to the mountain usually took about half an hour; twenty five minutes if she turned her stereo up loud. A few minutes after getting onto the I25 which would take her most of the way, a pair of headlights came up in her rear-view mirror. It was still dark enough to warrant them and she took no notice until it got close enough for her recognise the make of the big truck; it was a forest green Ford 4X4

She couldn't make out the licence plate, but the odds were at this time of the morning, and on this stretch of road, that it was Colonel O'Neill.

"Oh, great!"

Childishly, her first impulse was to accelerate and her car did leap forward under the pressure of her foot, until some sense returned and she eased up. Then, feeling like an idiot for even entertaining the notion of _racing_ him, for God's sake, to work, she slowed down a little so that he and his truck passed her by.

The event horizon dissipated behind Teal'c's tall, muscular frame. Until recently First Prime to Apophis, he wore the forest green of the Tauri uniform with every bit as much of the proud grace he had his previous armour. Usually the very essence of unflappable stoicism, even he was struck dumb by the sheer beauty of the sight that greeted his arrival on P3X-595.

Emerald green mountain ranges ringed a lagoon of deep azure and a pristine beach dotted with palm trees. "It appears to be an oasis of great beauty, O'Neill."

Bemused, Jack turned a slow circle and breathed in the fragrance of hot sand, fresh clean water spray spiced up with a hint of lush, exotic flowers on the gentle breeze. "Oh, yeah, now _this_ is more like it."

From a few feet away, Carter's impressed, "Wow!" drew his gaze her way. Framed by a truly spectacular mountain backdrop on her left, the current bane of his life was a sight herself. She hadn't bothered with the helmet this trip out and the sun shone bright gold in the hair that escaped her cap. Under the shade of the cap's peak, blue eyes sparkled enough to rival the deep blue lapping at the beach a few meters away.

He yanked his head away to stare elsewhere and almost cricked his damned neck in the process. Lucky for him, and his neck, distraction was at hand further on with Daniel, bless his scientific socks, picking up seashells and examining them like they were precious artefacts. For once he was in no mood to sneer. Particularly given he'd happily forgo a day's leave to be able to take off his boots and walk barefoot across the pristine sand. If they weren't all still new to one another he might well have done, and perhaps got in a little paddling, too. Instead, he tugged his cap down to shield his face and put on his shades.

With his expression hidden, he felt free to look at Carter directly. "I gotta hand it to ya, Doc, this time you caught us a sweet one."

Just as he'd expected irritation flickered over her face at the name he'd labelled her with. "Glad you like it, Colonel," she returned coolly.

Jack felt some of his own irritation flare, but his smirk didn't slip. She didn't like it? Too damned bad. He called her doc and she called him colonel which was exactly how it should be. She was a civilian under his command and he had a position to maintain; first name terms were out. Then Daniel blew that reasoning apart simply by calling over to him, "Jack," he said, "Can you hear drums?"

"I too can hear drums," Teal'c confirmed.

Cocking his head and listening, he caught the rhythmic sounds as well. Turning on her heel, Carter gestured beyond the Stargate and into the trees lining the beach. "It seems to be coming from that direction."

"Agreed," said Jack. Making a decision, he set off with the terse instruction, "Move out and exercise some caution, kids. I don't fancy any direct contact with the natives until we've checked them out."

They entered what looked to be the beginnings of a rainforest, but didn't go into it too far before coming out into another area of the same beach. Jack stepped out of the tree-line first and dropped to a crouch on spotting about a dozen people further down and near the rolling surf.

"We must have skirted a jut of forest or something," said Carter, settling herself next to him.

"Well, you know me, I always like to cut corners where I can," Jack replied sardonically. He could feel her looking at him to try and gauge if the quip was friendly or pointed. Not so sure himself and leaving it for her to decide, he gestured at the distant people and left the question open, "Anyone got any ideas on who they are and what they're doing?"

"They look human—" Carter began.

"And that looks like a canoe they're working on," finished Daniel from her other side.

Jack sliced him a look, "A canoe?"

"Looks like it."

Heaving a sigh, he gave Carter a passing, fake smile, "Looks like you lucked out on technological advancement, huh?"

Her muttered, "I'll live with it," he ignored as he cast a glance back the way they'd come.

"Oh, but we should make contact with these people," Daniel argued, obviously guessing what he was thinking.

_Oh, here we go_. "How did I _know_ you were gonna say that?" Jack asked sarcastically.

It didn't take a genius. Under the helmet, Daniel was wearing his earnest expression. The one that warned of long, boring debates on the unique opportunity of observing different cultures long dead on Earth; what they ate, slept in, picked their noses with…yadda yadda yadda.

"They may know of the Goa'uld," Daniel pointed out, not even trying to hide his personal motives, "or even Apophis himself. Perhaps, even Sha're and Skaara."

Jack hesitated and stared down to the beach. Children cavorted close-by the adults. "I can't see it. They don't look brow-beaten enough."

Crouching down with his staff weapon towering over his head, Teal'c gave a short emphatic nod, "I agree with O'Neill. They show none of the browbeaten attributes I have seen on every Goa'uld occupied planet."

"Personally, I think it's too soon to tell, but…" Shrugging, Carter pushed a little, too. "General Hammond did say one of the overall objectives was to make peaceful contact with the people we meet off-world."

That earned her a filthy look before Jack gave in with ill-grace, "Fine, we go and chat to the nice canoe builders." Standing, he pointed a warning finger at both scientists, "But, I swear if anyone, even _once_, uses the phrase 'when in Rome', we're going back to the 'gate. No second chances!"

There was a second of silent confusion, before he elaborated in an irritable mutter. "I don't do skirts."

Rising, too, Teal'c appeared intrigued, "What is this 'when in Rome'?"

"Erm, I'll explain it later," fielded Daniel as they all stood to make their way towards the group of humans playing and working on the sand.

Shortly after, Sam had to give credit where credit was due; none of the guys were showing any awkwardness over the fact that like the men, the women wore little else other than flowers, linen skirts tied sarong-style and tattoos. Meaning, the rest of their lithe, brown bodies were bare. O'Neill's only telling reaction had been a brief squint up at the sky and a small shake of his head while he adjusted to limiting his view to faces wherever possible.

He had been a little unnerved by the enthusiastic welcome they'd gotten after making their presence known, but then so had she. Taken by the hand like long-lost relatives, they were herded into the forest and towards a village while naked children ran, giggling and whooping, ahead to announce their arrival. The village itself turned out to be little more than thatched huts clustered around a much larger, central one.

Hearing the commotion, adults teemed and converged on the group in an excited gaggle. Protests ignored, SG-1 soon found themselves festooned with garlands of sweet-smelling flowers. Even Teal'c's inhibiting glare and stiff features didn't deter such ebullient natives and he sported no less than two.

More drums were brought into play and with some of the men joining the kids in whooping and leaping, the decibel levels were high. "Well, at least they don't think we're gods," pointed out Daniel, seeing the discomfort on both Teal'c's and O'Neill's faces.

"I'll ask you to repeat that when you start sneezing," retorted O'Neill loudly, aiming a thanks-but-no-thanks smile, complete with warding off hand, to stop a woman trying to place a third around his neck. "Personally, I think I prefer the bowing down."

On cue, Daniel instantly gave an explosive sneeze that startled the welcome wagon into backing off abruptly.

In the middle of grinning down at a little girl with liquid brown eyes who'd been shyly exclaiming over her hair, Sam heard the griping and tossed him a laughing glance, saying, "Like that's a surprise."

Catching her admittedly impish smile, O'Neill's expression turned fixed. Jolted by it, Sam mulled over the prudence of challenging him, even in fun, and then did it anyway. "Admit it," she said, "you like the bowing and scraping?"

"Ah…" O'Neill's gaze dropped from her face to the flowers adorning her neck and then back again. Confusion clouded his face, "What?"

He suited the bemused look she noted, and not for the first time given he used it a lot; it softened his usual sardonic camouflage. Deciding to let him off the hook because he clearly hadn't been listening, she said tongue-in-cheek. "Never mind, Colonel, and if it's any consolation your macho image isn't ruined by the flowers."

Before he could respond the natives recovered from their startle and crowded closer again, causing O'Neill to mutter a curse and redirect his attention. He clutched his MP5 as if he was worried they might try and wrestle it off him. Sam rolled her eyes. _Yeah, like he'd let that happen_. She understood his reasons, but she had her safety on just like he did and she couldn't see these people even thinking of attempting to disarm them.

If she was wrong and they tried, well then, they'd find out it wasn't such a great idea.

Meanwhile, Daniel was attempting to communicate with a man who was big enough to be a sumo wrestler back on Earth and whose beaming smile could have lit a room. "Can you take me to your leader? Lee-der, do you have one?"

Frantic nods and fresh tugging drew them deeper into the village just as a small procession emerged from the central hut. They quickly settled themselves on a wide, woven mat that Sam assumed was probably made from some local plant.

Under an elaborate canopy decorated with beads, feathers and yet more flowers, a man lowered his bulk onto a carved stool. They'd obviously caught the local dignitaries out on the hop with their sudden appearance and they were rushing to catch up.

By the time they stepped foot on the mat, a crowd of people were sat cross-legged around the man and his retinue. Considering he wore an actual outfit and, instead of flowers or leaves, he wore a headpiece, it was obvious he was the big-wig around here.

"Howdy," said Jack, and tipped him a casual salute.

The slightly irreverent greeting earned him a glare off Daniel. Seeking to allay that first impression, the archaeologist rushed into speech.

"Hello, please excuse my friend, he's…" unable to ad-lib a suitable excuse, Daniel faltered and then ploughed on, "Anyway, thank you for such a wonderful welcome. I'm Daniel Jackson and this Colonel Jack O'Neill, Dr. Carter and Teal'c. We come in peace to explore and meet new people."

"Howdy," said the man after a pause; echoing Jack. Under the headdress his weathered face creased into a big, toothy grin and he guffawed, obviously delighted with his own joke. Then composing himself, he nodded sagely and spoke, "We are a peaceful people, so it is good that you are peaceful, too."

Swinging back from a survey of who was standing where, Jack grinned, "Oh, peace is my middle name."

"You have many names," observed the Chief with another chuckle that was picked up and carried on by his people. "I have only two, King Tuaman."

"_King_ Tauman?" echoed Daniel.

King Tauman gave him a look that suggested he thought he might be addle-brained. "Yes. You do not have Kings where you come from?"

_Oooh, trick question_. Sam decided it was time to speak up. "Sure, lots, just not where we live." Seeing she'd confused the man, she opted not to get into a debate on democracy and back-peddled a smidgeon, "Our leader is like a king, sort of, but he has another title."

"This leader who is not called King sent you to visit us?"

"Yes," jumped in Daniel, "Absolutely."

"That is good. May I have the name of the man who sends his envoys to visit Tahata?"

Taking the question literally rather than relating it back to Sam's allusion to presidents, Jack answered, "General Hammond, great guy. He sends his greetings etc., etc."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2 and 3

PART TWO

"This place is fascinating," announced Daniel, dropping to sit on the sand opposite Jack. Approaching from the opposite direction, Carter lowered herself next to him and tossed the archaeologist an indulgent grin for his enthusiasm.

_Scientists!_

Inwardly cringing at the upcoming tedium of being force-fed more information than he wanted, or needed, O'Neill tipped back his head to rest against the palm tree giving them shade. Jesus! His own history was something he avoided at all costs. Other people's just bored him to tears, and that was on a good day.

The fishing boat, or more accurately canoe, being unloaded on the beach held a lot more appeal and interest. Concentrating on that, he let the words wash over him without bothering to take much in.

"These people must have been taken from Polynesia thousands of years ago and yet they've evolved similarly to how their ancestors did on Earth." Oblivious of O'Neill's patent disinterest, Daniel waved a hand to indicate the village behind them, "Take the name they've given their home, Tahata. It's very similar to Tahiti, which ties in with what I know of the mythology of that area of the Pacific."

"Nice beaches, hot women and loose morals'," cut in Jack, hoping against hope to skip a few minutes of droning monologue.

Daniel frowned, "That's a cliché, Jack."

"I like clichés."

"So I noticed."

He may not have known the archaeologist long, but knew him well enough for Jack to recognise the reprimand in Daniel's tone; the one that told him bluntly that he was in a piss-poor mood and to do something about it.

Moving on before Daniel got up and wandered off to find more congenial company, O'Neill prodded, "So, any indications of recent goa'uld activity hereabouts?"

He still wasn't forgiven and the reply was terse and unapologetic, "Not that I've been able to pin down as yet. Their mythology does include sky gods though, among a whole bunch of others. There's a possibility of a tie-in, but I doubt it's recent."

"In other words this has been a big waste of time." It wasn't a question.

Daniel's frown dug deeper. "I thought we agreed that General Hammond wanted us to forge friendships with other human societies we encounter?"

This time, Jack had a ready answer. "I'm certain he had some kind of trade type deals in mind, and I don' know about you, but I can't see him in a sarong and paddling a canoe decked in flowers."

The mental imagery had Jack grinning. Although, it could have been the fact that he now had the leverage he needed to prise the archaeologist away and get them all home that elevated his mood.

In the process of getting up, the uplift didn't get a chance to blossom. "Maybe not, Colonel," chimed in Carter, "But, I think he may be interested in the possibility that the Tahatans aren't the only inhabitants of this planet."

Considering he'd discounted any input from her this trip, her statement caught him by surprise. Freezing mid-rise, Jack figured he should be used to that from her by now, but for some reason she always seemed to sneak under his guard. Dropping his butt back to the sand it was his turn to frown, "Meaning?"

"I was asking around myself and some of the things I was hearing about their…" she air quoted, "…_gods_, got me curious. A little girl led me to where she'd seen one appear from underground and I found a lot of weird tracks and this…"

His first thought was to reprimand her for going on an expedition, any expedition, without an escort when he was caught by the object sitting innocently on her palm. 'This' turned to be palm-sized, smooth, grey, and to Jack's eyes, completely uninteresting. "Cool. Can I have a pebble, too?" he deadpanned.

"It's emitting a power signal," she countered, "and the grooves on the sides weren't made by any tidal forces I've ever heard about."

Grudgingly interested, O'Neill rubbed two fingers between his brows and puffed out a sigh before conceding, "Okay, the power signal does put a new spin on it."

Daniel asked to see it and after she'd passed it to him, Jack addressed his question to both of them. "Alright, so we may have stumbled across something useful. Any ideas what it is?"

"Not a clue," admitted Daniel, turning it over in his hand. "Sam?"

"Given the size of it and the low power reading, I'm thinking some kind of communicator, maybe, or it could be part of a larger assemblage."

"In other words, you don't have a clue either," guessed Jack only this time without a hint of bite.

"Not yet, no," she conceded. "But, I haven't had much of a chance to examine it yet."

"You'll get the time," he promised, "After you've shown me where you found it."

"And me," interrupted Daniel, and when Jack looked set to refuse, argued, "There may be markings I can decipher. I should go."

"There was some kind of alter set up and covered with what looked like carved statues on it," offered Carter, although she was careful not to sound like she was countermanding him. That was one of the things about her that kept tripping him up, she was so darned smart and subtle it gave him an itch. Jack refused to pinpoint the exact location of that itch and only registered the sensation before forcefully dismissing it.

"Fine," Jack muttered, "Let's round up Teal'c and make this a team outing and then nobody misses out on the fun."

Carter had another suggestion, "The little girl, Tula, might be useful for information if you want me to ask her to guide us again."

Getting up and dusting off the seat of his pants, Jack shrugged, "Sure, the more the merrier. Just make sure the kid has permission. I don't want to be explaining myself to a pissed off papa."

They went deeper into the interior. The preponderance of palm trees lessened and gave way to other varieties, some bearing fruit, and ferns crept everywhere. Sand became grass and at some points SG-1 were literally hacking their way through the verdant foliage of Tahata.

Appearing to be about eight-years-old, Tula giggled at their apparent 'clumsiness' and despite liking the sweet-faced cherub with the mile-wide smile, O'Neill could have shaken her by the time they crossed a stream and found a trail she assured them led to the temple dwelling of the god Tangola.

"That name rings a bell," said Daniel as he made up the rear. "Although, I don't think I'd say it the same way."

"How else would you say a god's name?" asked their confused guide.

"Ignore him," advised Jack with a sly wink. "He just loves to be contrary." Even Teal'c, new to O'Neill and the group, raised a brow at that blatant misdirection.

"Tell them about Tangola, Tula," suggested Carter with a big, encouraging smile that made the girl brighten even more.

"He lives in the nothingness between this world and the next," said Tula in her best orator's voice. It was pretty obvious that she was repeating what she'd been told by adults. "Back in the beginning, he made all things, including men."

Daniel halted abruptly and started to click his fingers, "Wait, wait, I got it now. I remember."

They all paused to look back in askance. "_Tangaloa_," he said as if the word had meaning for anyone else. "The Polynesian god of creation, or one of them depending on which island you visit." He looked pleased to have placed the memory. "The void, that's what clued me in. The myths are practically identical. Tangaloa lives in the unlimited void and created mankind out of a vine he laid across the land."

"As one does," said Jack sardonically.

"Yeah, well according to tradition the vine rotted and turned to maggots that Tangaloa then fashioned into a human shape, creating man-kind."

Carter pulled a face, "I guess it is a type of evolutionary approach to creation rather than just some guy appearing out of nowhere."

"Was not your Adam created from dust and brought to life by your God?" asked Teal'c, curious.

Immediately, all eyes swung his way. "What _have_ you been reading, Teal'c?" asked Jack.

The Jaffa was unfazed by their disbelief. "I am curious about your world O'Neill, and your beliefs. I have been reading your Bible and am intrigued by what I have read so far." He paused, "I have many questions…" he finished leadingly and as if they weren't standing in a primordial forest on another planet.

"Yeah well, direct 'em someplace else," said Jack. "I never got much further than Genesis myself…too many big words…like thy and therefore."

"It is not much further if you're tired," piped up a small, dejected voice.

Sam winced; they'd forgotten they had an audience. Crouching down and taking a small hand, she squeeze it reassuringly and said, "Oh, no, it's okay, sweetie. We just got distracted is all."

The second hand was gently snagged by the colonel; the small fingers enveloped by his much larger ones. His tone was gentle when he spoke, "Lead on, Tula, I just needed a rest and maybe some help getting up this slope," a self-depreciating grin tugged his lips higher, "What can I say? I'm an old guy and my knees aren't what they used to be."

The 'slope' was a gentle incline with plenty of deeply imbedded rocks to prevent slipping in the mud. He was humouring the little girl and Sam's heart gave a little squeeze that he'd even bother. It was…unexpected.

It was also proof positive that O'Neill could lay on some charm when he cared to. His tactic worked and the unhappiness fled, replaced by the usual blinding smile as the child happily continued on, now flanked by two adults. Daniel and Teal'c picked up the rear. Gripping firmly while Tula skipped and swung between them, Sam spared a fleeting thought for the innocence of a society that would let a young child wander off alone into the forest with four strangers. Skimming a glance over to O'Neill, she caught a grimace and a shake of the head that suggested he was thinking along the same lines.

"It's not far now," she mouthed over to him and received a nod in acknowledgement.

When they reached it, the cave opening was obscured by foliage and was only big enough for a man to squeeze into if he snaked in on his belly. The alter outside was decorated with carved statues, beaded mats that were a work of art in themselves and massive, flat leaves laden with fruit and other offerings. Staked into the ground was a pole similar to one they'd seen outside the communal hut in the village. Like the other one, this pole was also carved with various images, including a grotesque face halfway up.

"Pretty," observed O'Neill with barely concealed sarcasm. "Michelangelo eat your heart out."

Standing back to let them explore a little, Sam had to agree with him. She'd thought the same when she'd first come here.

Daniel, of course, had a different perspective on it. He picked one of the statues up and fingered the carving as if testing for quality of craftsmanship. "A community's artistry gives an insight into how they view themselves and their environment, particularly their gods. Think of the gargoyles so loved by the Christians during medieval times."

"Yeah well, I happen to think they're ugly as sin, too," rejoined O'Neill, bending down to examine the cave entrance. Looking unenthused by the prospect of entering into the blackness visible beyond, he glanced up and over to ask her, "Where did you find that thing, exactly?"

Sam came over, "Literally where your boot is now, Colonel," she pointed, too. "I guess whoever owned it, dropped it when they were trying to enter."

She must have jabbed a nerve. The frown aimed her way was rife with the suggestion that she should be glad she hadn't tried to enter herself. Aggravation flared. He didn't say it though, so she didn't bother telling him she wasn't so stupid as to try something like that alone. Not that he'd listen anyway she told herself, and failed to choke another spike of irritation.

Returning from scouting the tracks leading from the cave, Teal'c announced that they vanished very soon after entering thicker forest. Left with nothing except the cave as an avenue of investigation they all gathered around. Their guide, Tula had been allowed to wander off with the instruction that she remain in hearing distance.

Crouching, Teal'c surveyed the opening with assessing eyes. "If you wish I could enter first and make a threat assessment, O'Neill."

The colonel took exception to the suggestion. "You're no more expendable than the rest of us, Teal'c."

That proud head bowed briefly in acknowledgement. "Perhaps not," he countered, "but I am stronger and with my symbiote, far less likely to be mortally wounded if an enemy lies in wait within."

"Okay, that makes sense." Rising, O'Neill rose and stepped out of the way. "But, if you see anything bigger than a damned mouse down there you high-tail it out. Got it?"

It felt like the longest half hour ever before Teal'c's staff weapon poked out, heralding his return, swiftly followed by his head. Dragging the rest of his body free, the Jaffa rose and reported in his typical, impassive fashion, "The cave leads to others and there are tracks that indicate they are in use. However, I was prevented from going further by a large stone blocking the entrance into the fourth."

"These are lava mountains," Carter said with a squint at the range of peaceful volcanoes in the far distance. "It makes sense that multiple caves will form in-between the layers and in air pockets."

Jack was less interested in how the caves came to be there than the last part of Teal'c's report, "This stone blocking your way…" he cocked a brow, "any chance it had fallen there accidentally?"

"Extremely unlikely," was the swift reply. "In my experience a cave-in is a jumbled mass of rocks rather than one large one. Also, there are more tracks that continue beyond the stone, and they appear to have been made recently."

"You couldn't move the stone?" queried Daniel from beside Jack side.

"I attempted to do so, but failed." If he was distressed by that fact, he failed to show it and was merely stating a fact.

"The gods are sleeping and do not want to be disturbed," said Tula in a little voice. "You should not attempt to follow them, or you may never come back— like the others."

Considering they'd just tried that very thing, that last part of her statement drew their instant attention. Realising that the girl had a reason, other than restlessness, for disappearing so soon after getting here, O'Neill tried to keep it light, "Are you saying others have gone into the caves and disappeared for good?"

Tula darted between them to once again cling to Sam like a limpet, or a very frightened child. She nodded and the fearful light in her eyes intensified. "Many have gone in there and never returned." She aimed a slightly awed look at Teal'c, "except for him."

It occurred to Sam that both times now Tula hadn't stuck around the caves. "Tula, why did you agree to bring us here if it scares you so much?"

The child must have guessed the suspicion that had entered her mind and looked stricken, "They do not come out during the day, or most nights unless there is a moon to light their path. I would not have led you into danger, Sam."

After returning Tula safely back to the village, Jack took Carter with him to report back to the SGC. Daniel and Teal'c remained behind to try and piece together the truth behind the little girl's claims.

Hoping that Teal'c left most of the talking to Daniel, he wondered at his last minute decision to bring Carter along with him instead of the Jaffa. The best explanation he could come up with for the impulse was that he didn't trust her not to go wandering off again. Most especially since her curiosity level equalled Daniel's at times. Although, he conceded grudgingly, she did appear to have a heckova lot more sense- usually.

She must have read his mind. "You told us to explore and collate information. That's all I was doing."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, c'mon, Colonel, we both know you've been simmering over me going out to the caves that first time."

"Maybe," was all he'd say at first until a little further on, he continued, "Going alone on a trip like that is a big no-no. You always take back-up and you should know that."

Sam stiffened. It was the first time he'd ever brought up her previous career in the Air Force. "I _do_ know that," she shot back and lengthened her stride to match his. "The impression I got off Tula was that it wasn't far and I wasn't expecting to find much. It wasn't until it was too late that I figured out her idea of not far and mine are very different."

He stayed silent and she reiterated, stubbornly, "I didn't try and go inside."

All she got for her effort was a repeat of that dark look and a gruff, "Yeah, well, it's done now…water under the bridge. Forget it."

Some devil inside insisted she get a better reaction off him than that. "But, if I ever do something like that again—"

He stopped so suddenly she nearly collided with him. "You'll get land-locked so fast your head'll be spinning."

Jack saw the acceptance in her blue eyes and realised she'd been yanking his chain. Instead of pissing him off, he felt a spark of admiration and he'd be lying if he claimed it was the first. He put on his shades before she saw it on his face. "Move out, Doc, I want to make the report and get back. We don't have all day."

The rest of the short journey was made in silence, but there was an easier vibe between them that had Sam relaxing more than she ever had in his presence. It was nice. The good mood lasted until they reached the part of the beach where the Stargate was located; then disappeared when they got a good look at the DHD.

It was in pieces, or at least the innards were.

Eyeing the mess left them speechless for a few moments. "Oh, crap! This can't be good." Finished with the laconic understatement, O'Neill gave her a look that was half demand and half hopeful. "Think ya can you fix it?"

PART THREE

Jack had gone from simmering to a near boil by the time he reached the communal hut. _Damn it!_ He should have known better than to be taken in. Nobody was this darned nice and peaceful. At least, not en-mass, unless somebody had figured out how to clone Ghandi a few hundred times, give or take. Boots crunching on the matting underfoot, he whipped the drape covering the door aside and ducked in. Then, after his vision adjusted to the dim interior compared to the bright sunlight outside, his glare latched onto King Tauman as a prelude to releasing his angry frustration.

"What the hell are you people playing at?" he barked, striding over and only stopping when he risked actually stepping on someone.

Unnoticed by him, the shocked entourage reared back in confused fear at the tall, wrathful figure that had swept inside with them.

Seated on one of his many elaborately carved stools, King Tauman looked wary, but instead of cowering, he demanded, "Explain this display, Colonel Jack."

Jack was happy, no, make that more than happy to oblige and hands on hips, he said, "The DHD has been sabotaged and one of the crystals inside has been taken."

Tauman's weathered face crinkled even more, "DHD?"

"The squat little thing next to the Stargate," replied Jack shortly. "It controls the 'gate and without it we ain't goin' anywhere. We can fix the mess, or rather Dr Carter can, but without the missing crystal we're wasting our time even trying."

Tauman looked none the wiser, "The stone ring is a mystery to us," he stated baldly. "It provides no food or shelter and so we have no use for it," he explained. "There are myths handed down from our forefathers that tell of the gods using it to travel between here and Hawi'iki, the old realm, but those are tales of long ago."

"So, whad'ya sayin'?" Jack snarked, "That none of your people would touch the gate, is that it?" He quirked a brow, "Somebody did and it wasn't anyone from my team."

The old man looked older in an instant as weariness descended over his features. Still he did not back down, and his demeanour was one of composed resignation when he said, "I know my people as well as you know yours, Colonel Jack. However, to appease you I will gather them together so that we may ask them."

He'd expected to have to put up more of a fight and finding out he'd been wrong took a lot of wind out of his sails. "Thank you." Mollified, Jack suddenly felt like an idiot for storming in there and having a pissy fit. Worry over who destroyed the DHD and why, plus not being able to get home or reach the SGC was no excuse. One of these days he was going to learn to _ask_ first; then, and only if he didn't get the response he wanted, would he get arbitrary.

"Now would be good for me," he said. _Oh yeah, one of these days, sure_.

As good as his word it only took an hour to gather every single villager. Fishermen, hunters, and the women sent out to gather berries, roots and fruits were all recalled and gathered curiously along with the elderly and youngest children. Jack had to give King Tauman credit for being able to get everyone back so effectively. He also had to admit that no matter how hard he tried he couldn't find a trace of resentment, guilt or fear on any face. Yeesh, if somebody tried this back home there'd be a riot from citizens angry at having their daily activities interrupted. The playful Tahatans showed only curiosity. He mentally shook his head. Jesus, they were so laid-back they were practically horizontal.

Hiding a wince by turning it into a squint, Jack was beginning to suspect that this was a big waste of time. Of course if he had to look outside the Tahatans for a culprit, then he was out of leads, above ground anyway.

Carter, standing beside him with one of the crystals in her hand to use as a visual aid, must have been looking for the same signs of guilt and coming up empty, too. "I can't see anyone looking nervous enough to be a suspect, Colonel. Can you?"

"Nope." Seeing his own frustration mirrored in her eyes, he added low, "Let's hope Daniel and Teal'c come up with something."

Given a short training session on using Carter's hand-held sensor, which would pick up low energy readings like the crystals gave off, Daniel and the Jaffa were taking advantage of the empty homes to briefly search them. It wasn't exactly a neighbourly thing to do, but under the circumstances, Jack was willing to assign politeness as a poor second to getting home.

His musings were cut short when one of the royal entourage, a guy whose headpiece looked nearly as headache-inducing as King Tauman's and was covered from head-to-toe in tattoos, called for quiet. Obediently the low mutters of conversation interspersed with genial laughter trickled to nothing.

Rather than an elevated platform with the audience standing before them, they were standing in the centre. King Tauman, dressed in full regal splendour paradise-style was seated on yet another stool and shaded by his canopy; the villagers encircled them, sitting on the sandy ground.

After a brief introduction and a stern warning to answer truthfully, King Tauman handed over to Jack, who just as quickly handed over to Carter.

She got straight to the point. "What you call the Stone Ring, we call the Stargate and it's powered and controlled by this…" she held up a sketch of the DHD and then handed it to one of the nearest villagers, who then passed it on with such solemnity you'd think it was a religious artefact. Rolling his eyes, Jack forced his attention to stay on searching the crowd and not stray to watch Dr. Carter strut her stuff.

He'd done enough of that while she'd been laying flat with her head stuck in the DHD, looking hotter and more rumpled as the minutes ticked past. He wasn't sure, but he _thought_ he'd caught a few muffled cuss words while she worked. The corners of his lips kicked up at the memory.

_Concentrate, Jack, you ass!_

"The device I've drawn for you was attacked sometime yesterday, after we arrived, and something was taken from inside." This time she held up one of the other, remaining crystals and did a slow circle to make sure everyone got a good look at it. "It looks like this only a little bigger and red in colour. We need to find it."

She was met by a sea of blank faces, confused muttering, and shrugs. Taking that as his cue to step in again, Jack moved to stand beside her and took off his cap so they could see his face. Pasting on a genial smile, he raised his voice to be heard by all, "Look, folks, all we want is the crystal back, nothing else. Nobody will get into trouble, I swear. Heck, maybe whoever did it didn't know it was important. We understand that."

For once the lie tripped off his tongue without dropping like a giant turd and splatting on the deck. Both he and Carter had seen what was done to the DHD and in his considered opinion, playful misadventure was out.

The response was identical. His jaw tightened and then relaxed as he puffed out a resigned sigh. Short of yanking out his sidearm and threatening someone they had no other means of extracting information. Not that he felt it was really necessary anyway. After twenty odd years, he trusted his gut and right now it was telling him these people were innocent. Frustrated, Jack met Carter's resigned expression with an identical one. Puffing a second aggravated breath, he grumbled, "Well this is a nice fat, dead-end."

"There's still Daniel and Teal'c," she offered, sounding just as convinced as he was that they would yield nothing as well.

Neither of them spared more than a brief thought that they'd just broken a record in agreeing on something, _twice,_ and in as many minutes.

Unfortunately their gloomy, unvoiced prediction was borne out when the other half of SG-1 reported an unspectacular lack of success in finding a clue in the village.

"Face it, Jack," said Daniel, folding his rangy body to sit cross-legged, "It wasn't the Tahatans that sabotaged the DHD."

That said he tossed the sensor to the mat next to Sam. Given their stay had been prolonged and the day was drawing to a close, they'd been assigned the communal hut as a temporary lodging. And, if you ignored the more grotesque masks and statues, it was roomy and homey. Outside normal activity had returned to the village as if the interruption to their peaceful routine hadn't happened. With the sun dipping low on the horizon, cooking fires were being lit and women sat in groups to skin fish and prepare food.

"I concur," said Teal'c, also seating himself cross-legged so they sat in a circle. His rigidly controlled face relaxed enough to register mild surprise at saying something so alien to him. "I have observed these people for several hours now and found no evidence of aggression towards us."

"Me neither," inserted Daniel, "Or towards anyone else." He frowned, "A fact which I find a little surprising, because the people of the South Pacific did fight amongst themselves on a fairly regular basis back on Earth, and ate each other afterwards, too."

Back against a wall and long legs spread out, O'Neill spared Daniel a grossed out look before tossing up his hands, "Fine, I'll concede it might not have been the Tahatans. Where does that leave us?"

"Did we find out anymore about who might be using those caves?" asked Sam. She figured that with finding the DHD in pieces, their previous determination to find out more about Tula's story had probably dropped a priority or two.

Daniel confirmed her suspicions by shaking his head, "Not much before you two came back from the 'gate and nothing specific to those caves."

He glanced at Jack and found him watching Sam. It wasn't the first time and, intrigued, Daniel wondered if the Air Force Colonel he'd once tagged as the testiest and most intransigent man he'd ever had the misfortune of meeting was aware just how often he did that. Then that dark gaze slid to him, saw he'd noticed and hardened with a warning not to say a _word_.

Now that was more the Jack O'Neill he knew, only now he knew him a little better. Oh the prickles were real, with not so much a heart of gold underneath as one made of bronze with some acid thrown in to liven things up. Still, it was interesting to discover that the gibes poor Sam kept getting might have a more complex cause than simple dislike of yet another scientist to deal with. The glare being aimed his way heated up. Wisely filing that away for later, Daniel re-ordered his thoughts and continued to report on what they knew about the Tahatans.

"One possibility for the entirely peaceful attitude of the Tahatans is that only one tribe was brought here from earth before the Goa'uld's were forced to retreat and abandon them. Meaning, there were no tribal differences to be settled or territory to be fought over."

"That's a bit of a leap isn't it," Jack argued, "What makes you think the Goa'uld got their snake-butts kicked out?"

"Something Teal'c found out, actually," he countered and looked over to the quiet, still Jaffa warrior.

Bowing slightly, he accepted the invitation to speak, "Daniel Jackson is referring to the myth told to me by one of the priests I questioned. According to him, they were brought here by a sky god known as Ami-Te-Rangi who drew up the Tahatan people into a magical basket and bore them to hell."

"A literal hell?" asked Sam, "as in flames?"

"According to legend it was freezing cold," Teal'c replied. "There they were forced into a strange, mystical river that delivered them here."

"To a bunch of scared people ignorant of science, the wormhole could look like a river," she supposed with a shrug.

Teal'c nodded his agreement with that hypothesis. "Once here though Ami-Te-Rangi was drawn into battle with Tangola and was defeated." Head rising, he paused before delivering the punch line, "Then, according to the priest, he was devoured along with every one of his warriors, living or dead, by the victorious god and his minions."

"Sweet" said Jack after the pause and then quirked both brows and nodded towards outside, "Is it just me wondering what they're cooking out there?"

Sam didn't seem to hear him. "Is anyone else finding this a little confusing?" she asked irritably. She thrust out one hand, palm out. "On the one hand we have a feasible story of a people being abducted by Goa'ulds, similar to the way the Abydonians were taken from Egypt." Having said that, the second palm was offered, "Then we find ourselves stuck on a planet without any evidence of the Goa'uld for a very long time, with a stargate sabotaged by someone who was technologically advanced enough to recognise the significance of the crystals and remove one."

"Take a breath, doc," suggested Jack and then he frowned, saying in an aggrieved tone, "Hey! You never mentioned our saboteur being technologically advanced before. That kinda knocks out the possibility of the Tahatans don't ya think?"

Sam was instantly defensive. "It didn't occur to me before, Colonel. Trust me, I wouldn't have wasted the time earlier if it had. I've just been chewing it over and have come to the conclusion that the 'gate has been damaged in such a way as to be repairable, _if_ the crystal is found." Now it was her turn to leave a pause for emphasis, "A fact which isn't a problem for whoever took it."

"Perhaps this Tangola is also a Goa'uld?" Suggested Teal'c although his tone suggested he did not give the idea much merit.

Neither did Jack, "A Goa'uld living in caves underground with a whole bunch of would-be-slaves living the high-life on the surface? Sure, I can see that- not!"

"Maybe Tangola isn't a Goa'uld, but another alien; a race advanced enough to wipe one out." Daniel simply tossed the idea out there and then wished he hadn't. He winced, "Nobody likes that idea do they?"

Jack didn't spare him, "Factoring in the whole 'devouring' scenario that keeps popping up today…and since you ask, no."

"Tula was afraid of going inside those caves," said Sam and rubbed her arms briskly as if chilled.

"And the statuettes on the alter depicted scenes of death and carnage," murmured Daniel. He looked up to see a few pointed stares for having omitted that earlier, "I'm sorry! That's not exactly unusual in a primitive society whose daily lives can be turned over in an instant. I just didn't think it might be so literal."

The next sounds they heard were piercing wails coming from the outskirts of the village. Shocked immobile for a fraction of a second, SG-1 eventually scrambled to their feet, grabbed their rifles and dived for the doorway, with Daniel protesting, "I refuse to believe something I said could be in any way prophetic. This will just be a dead rat or something."

"Maybe the rat saw what was on the menu," deadpanned Jack over his shoulder as they headed for where everyone else was going. Then turning serious in a blink of an eye as he was wont to do, he said, "Teal'c, go with Daniel and circle to the right. Carter and me will take the left. Call me paranoid, but I've got an itch dead centre in my back that's driving me _nuts_."

The added precaution of not charging straight to the scene of the continued hysteria only cost them a few seconds, and it did give them an opportunity to assess the level of the crisis currently besetting the village. In the centre of the crowd a woman was on her knees, keening and wailing with tears streaking down her face. Her mouth was a gaping maw of horror and pain. She kept trying to rock back on forth on her heels as if praying, but the efforts of the other villagers to offer comfort frustrated her movement. The sheer, agonised despair in her cries shook Jack to the core and the memories it dug up were awful beyond belief. He only hoped he didn't look as sick as he felt.

She sounded just like Sara had in the hospital when the doctor's came out to solemnly tell him his only son was dead. _Jesus Kerrist_! Even now the pain was incredible, lancing hot and deep to skewer his heart. At the time, he hadn't yelled or cried out. What was the point when there was no sound loud enough to deafen the repeated echoes of the gunshot that had killed Charlie?

_Shut the hell UP, O'Neill!_

Without conscious thought his footsteps slowed as if he didn't want to actually reach the woman. Which was true, he really didn't, but he had no choice. "Isn't that Tula's mother?" he asked Carter, proud his voice didn't tremble, and heard her sharp intake of breath as the memory nagging at her crystallised.

"Oh God, no!" she said and lengthened her stride from brisk to urgent. Jack lagged behind.

By the time he caught up, Teal'c and Daniel were standing a respectful distance while Sam questioned one of the other women. Daniel gave his pale face a sharp look but stayed silent. Grateful, he kept his expression rigid until Carter stepped back to report that Tula was missing. His mind went blank except for the thought, _all this for a kid that had wandered off_? Sure it was scary, but it didn't mean Tula was dead.

"So, we organise search parties and find her?" he said more harshly than he intended.

Taken aback by his sharp tone with its undeniable crack of impatience, Carter frowned, "I suggested that, but apparently it's taboo to leave the boundaries of the village or the immediate area of beach after dusk…," she gave a frustrated shrug, "something about a mystical protection that only extends so far."

Jack stared at Carter and then at the still hysterical woman, then growled "Oh fer crying out loud!" and pushed his way towards her.

Daniel swept out an arm to stop him and missed. "Jack, don't—"

Spotting Tula's father trying to console his wife, he changed his mind and grabbed his arm instead, pulling him up to say, "Your dumbass rules don't apply to us. Just tell me where you last saw her and we'll find her."

Glassy-eyed, the man had to swallow thickly before he could reply, "I followed my daughter's tracks as far as I could. They appeared to be leading to the marae…" his Adam's apple bobbled with terror and anguish and another wail was heard from the mother.

"Marae?" Jack's gaze bounced between Carter and Daniel. "What the hell is a marae?"

Daniel grimaced, "It means temple, Jack." Pausing, he finished off with the obvious, "Tula went back to the caves."

Dusk was bleeding away what little daylight remained in the forest. On the other side of the stream, Sam lost her usually sure footing and almost stumbled. Regaining her balance only took a second, but she still appreciated Teal'c's fast reflexes and steadying hand. Nodding her thanks, she wished to hell they'd thought to bring night-vision goggles. Following the tall, muscular frame of the Jaffa as he navigated the tangled forest with such ease, the scientist in her took mental notes. Obviously, the symbiote didn't just heal him, but enhanced his natural senses, too, and Sam didn't mind admitting to some serious envy about that right now.

On all sides trees and shrubs merged into towering shadows alive with scuttling claws. Her flashlight beam wavered and she thumped it on her free hand to steady it. The last thing she needed was for the damned thing to give out on her since she didn't have a spare. More to the point, she didn't want to even _think_ how frightened a little girl would be as it grew remorselessly darker by the minute. At least it wasn't far now and with any luck O'Neill and Daniel would be on their six.

The long day coupled with her worry for Tula sapped at her patience. _Jesus!_ It was unbelievable that any parent would let religious taboos stop them from finding their missing child. Tula wasn't even hers, but she'd wanted to bury her fist in the priest's face when he'd started caterwauling about angering the gods.

She'd seen by the expression on O'Neill's face that he'd felt the same. She'd never seen such seething contempt on any face before and marvelled that he hadn't done what his twitching gun hand had suggested, and clubbed the indignant man to silence. It was the first time she'd seen him close to losing his cool. Luckily King Tauman had intervened and Daniel and Jack had remained behind to talk the villagers around. Before following the beleaguered monarch, the Colonel had ordered her and Teal'c to sneak out and see if they could find Tula in the meantime. Since he'd expressly forbid them from venturing down into the caves themselves, she was hoping against hope that the kid had been too scared to actually slip down into that impenetrable blackness.

That was something else that bugged her. What was a race of beings capable of producing a device like the one she'd found doing in a bunch of caves? And, what had Tula meant by others going down and never coming back?

TBC


	3. Chapter 4 & 5

PART FOUR

"Tula!" The flashlight bobbed on rock, rock and more rock. Talk about feeling entombed, and that was just going in a few feet. "Tula, can you hear me, _please_ answer?"

She felt Teal'c grip firm on her ankles and wriggled further inside. The edge of the cave mouth dug into her belly through the vest and jacket. It reminded her of a place her parents had taken her on a trip to Europe; she'd been about eight and they'd been in France. Of course, being a tourist attraction, the French had widened the entrance and dug out some steps complete with handrails. This, on the other hand, was just a rock tunnel that you'd have to slide down and devoutly pray you didn't get stuck.

Oh boy! And wouldn't that be fun?

Still, Teal'c had managed to get in and out, so she should have no problem. Straining to see further and hear something, anything, Sam made a decision. "Teal'c, I'm going in."

Just at the worst possible moment, her radio squawked into life. _"Carter, Teal'c, come in."_

"Oh _crap_!"

Using her free hand, Sam reached up to the radio in her vest and pressed 'transmit', "Here, Colonel."

Teal'c's, "As am I," came out loud and clear straight after.

There were a few seconds of static crackle before O'Neill spoke again. "We're on our way. Report, over."

Sam was about to speak into the radio again when she caught something that sent her heart plummeting and soaring at the same time. It was a whimper of terror. "TULA!" she yelled. Almost losing the flashlight as she tried to angle it to see further, she cursed as her knuckles scraped along the rock of the wall by her left shoulder. Nothing, damn! She couldn't see a damned thing unless she went down further.

"Sam!" a quavering voice replied, only to be repeated in a sobbing yell, "SAM!"

She had to turn down the radio volume to speak over the chatter as Teal'c relayed the news to O'Neill.

"Tula, oh, thank God!" Sam's eyes slid closed and she took a deep, relieved breath. "Can you climb up to me if I hold the light steady for you?"

"I'm afraid, I'm so afraid," she heard the girl whimper from somewhere out of sight and in the bowels of the cave, "I keep hearing things move. The gods are angry and they'll take me if I try and leave."

"Nobody will take you," she soothed, wracking her brain for something to say that would convince the terrified girl that she had the power to save herself if she'd just give it a try. "All you have to do is follow my voice and the light and we can go home. It's that simple. I promise."

There was some scraping and then a squeal so piercingly loud and terror-filled that Sam jerked forward to go to her and would have except for the hold Teal'c still had of her ankles.

"_Tula_! What happened?"

"I can't," she wailed. "They're waiting for me to try…"

"…_Dr. Carter is trying to persuade the child to climb up to us_." Teal'c's deep voice advised over the radio.

Not slowing his pace, Jack actually crossed his fingers and asked, "How's she doin' with that? Over."

"_So far she has been unsuccessful_."

Daniel's "Damn!" coincided with his own.

"Roger that," Jack acknowledged, "Both of you stay put and we'll be there ASAP, over."

Teal'c's next transmission ran his blood cold, and then hot "_I believe Dr. Carter wishes to go down into the cave and attempt to retrieve her that way_."

"Negative!" he barked, much more explosively than he'd intended. Then he thumbed the switch harder as if it would make his voice louder on the other end. "Carter, respond! Over."

Nothing, no reply. _Oh shit!_ She better not have just gone ahead and done it. Helplessness never failed to have him grinding his teeth. "Carter, damn it all to hell. If you don't respond right now, I swear I'm gonna—"

A harsh crackle of static cut him off, then, "_Colonel, I can hear Tula, but I can't see her. She's too terrified to come out on her own. Somebody is going to have to go down there, calm her down and then bring her back up. It may as well be me_."

The relief of her hearing her voice and knowing she was still above ground was way out of proportion to anything he would have expected given he didn't even like her…much, maybe…or hadn't, as in past tense. _Who the hell cares?_

"Negative!" Taking a breath, Jack felt Daniel's concern across the few feet separating them as they picked up the pace to a steady jog. "I repeat, negative on that plan, Carter. You _will_ stay put and that is a direct order, over."

There was a pause and she must have picked up on something in his voice. "_Why, what have you found out_?"

If he told her, there was no way she'd leave the girl for another twenty minutes or so. "You have your orders, Doctor. Stay put and when we get there, _I'll_ go down and fetch Tula, over."

Once again all he got was silence. He almost broke his radio clicking it, "Teal'c yank her out of there _now, _and then sit on her if you have to, over."

"_I'm afraid it is too late for that, O'Neill. The child called out in terror and Dr. Carter is already making her way down. Do you wish me to go in after her?_"

Stunned, Jack felt as if he'd been dunked into a vat of icy water. Sluggish or not, his mind zeroed in on one thing—Teal'c would do whatever was necessary to protect the girl and Carter. Jack knew that without a doubt. Recovering his wits, his first impulse was to say yes, but then sense overrode it. Even so, the words stuck in his craw like a burr, "No, if they need to get out of there fast, you'll be more help pulling them out than getting stuck in an ambush, over."

"_As you wish, O'Neill_."

He didn't wish it, but he had no choice. In fact, the only choice he did have was to trust that Carter was as good at defending herself as she claimed. She'd done okay on their first mission on Chulak, but she was still a long way off from being battle-experienced to his mind. Plus, what she could be facing down there would be nothing like she'd ever come up against before. Fury and anxiety were never a good mix. When he got his hands on that woman, she was gonna wish she'd never even _heard_ of the stargate.

Splashing through the stream he remembered from earlier, Jack thumbed the radio a final time. "Keep sharp and we'll be there in ten minutes, over and out."

Finished with the radio he turned to Daniel, who was red-faced with exertion from running abreast with him. "A word of warning, if this goes bad, I'm going to take it very hard, Daniel. Then, I'm going to take it out on those assholes for convincing us this place was some kind of _goddamned_ paradise!" By the time he finished he was yelling and he meant every word of it.

Looking haggard with worry himself, Daniel nevertheless opened his mouth to say something Jack could already predict; he shouldn't blame the Tahatan's for doing what they thought they had to do to survive. That sentiment was all well and good when it involved only their own people, and not his. Renewed fury lit up in his belly and Jack held up a stiff finger and cut him off harshly, "Watch me."

Sam was convinced that parts of Teal'c had to be made from jello. Either that or she was a lot bigger than she'd imagined in comparison. She gave a mirthless chuckle and muttered to herself, "Sam, it's time to go on a diet. No Ben & Jerry's for at least a month."

Of course he'd come down feet first, which made a lot more sense. It was a pity she hadn't had the option of changing positions before descending. Not so surprisingly that line of thought led onto why she'd had no choice. Violating a direct order was a court-martialable offence if she'd still been in the Air Force, which she wasn't. Still, she didn't fool herself that she was going to get away with this unscathed. In disobeying him, she may well have handed O'Neill the very thing he wanted most—a good enough reason to kick her out of SG-1.

Sam squashed the thought. She couldn't think about that right now. Concentrate, she told herself. Even though Tula had calmed down after that scream, there was no going back now and no point anyway with the damage already done.

Pushing with her toes and pulling with her hands, she made slow progress despite the tunnel's incline being practically vertical in places. Those sections were the worst since she had to control her body weight to avoid slipping and cracking her skull open. For the most part though, it was a case of dragging herself over ridges of rock that curved or jutted out. All in all, she was feeling pretty raw in places and a sensation of being hemmed in was a given. If this little jaunt was good for one thing, it was gaining a better understanding of claustrophobia. Great! Just what she'd always wanted. Thankfully, the flashlight went a long way towards easing any leanings in that direction.

She wished she had a mask, too. "Hoo boy, does it stink in here."

Actually analysing the smells would require her to take in a lot and focus on them, which was something she really didn't want to do; so Sam ignored it and concentrated on what she did want, which was reaching the cave itself and extracting Tula before whatever or whoever had O'Neill so spooked turned up.

If she estimated that it had taken her ten minutes to get this far, then that meant Tula had been silent for at least three. That worried her. "Tula, can you hear me?"

"I am here, Sam" was the timid reply, but at least it sounded much nearer.

Juggling the torch for a better view and spotting what could be a much wider space a few feet down, Sam injected a whole lot of confidence into her voice, "I'm nearly there and then we can both get out of here, okay?"

"O-Okay"

Finally, just at the bottom, the tunnel widened dramatically. Sam's searching hand met no resistance and the flashlight's yellow beam met more than confining rock walls. With enough space to swivel on her butt, she did so and planted her booted feet on the cave's rock floor. Directly ahead and huddled with her thin, brown arms wrapped around her legs, and long dark hair falling in straggles over her ashen face, was Tula.

She looked so small, scared and vulnerable, Sam's smile wobbled before she could steady it, "Hey."

Liquid brown eyes filled with tears and the next thing Sam knew, she was catching the hurtling child before they both landed on their backs. Clinging like a limpet, Tula was quaking with fear and cold. Running a hand over her back to warm her, she asked, "How long have you been down here?"

The child shrugged and didn't lift her face from the crook of her neck, "Don't know."

Crouching down, Sam pulled her away enough to see her face, "WHY did you come down here, Tula?"

The little face crumpled and tears leaked out of her eyes, "I'm sorry, it's m-my fault the gods are a-angry and broke the stone ring. I thought if.if I came her and left some gifts they might be appeased and relent."

Hugging her again, Sam searched the cave and saw a wrapped bundle with some of the contents spilling out—fruit, flowers and bracelets. Simple gifts that were nonetheless beautiful, "They're lovely gifts, Tula, it was a nice thought."

Then as gently as she could, she asked, "Why did you think the gods were angry because of you?"

"I brought you here," Tula replied still sobbing. "And the Aroonaka failed to protect the marae from the big one."

By 'big one' Sam assumed the girl meant Teal'c. "But doesn't that mean that if there is any fault it's ours and not yours?" Personally, she figured that if the Aroonaka were supposed to act as some sort of guards to this place, then it was they who were in the wrong here. Then, realising she was actually taking this stuff as true, she shook herself. What the hell am I thinking? This is just fairytales!

Ignoring a sudden, horrible feeling of trespassing, Sam flashed another reassuring smile and cajoled, "Look, why don't we leave your gifts right where they are and then we both go back up to the surface? You can go first and I'll help you up."

Tula went as stiff as a board. "They won't let me leave," she whispered, "I tried, many times."

It was the look on her face, so much more than fright, that caused every hair on Sam's body to stand on end. "Who are _they_?"

Instead of speaking, Tula raised a trembling arm and shakily pointed over to the right. Following where she was pointing, Sam tried to pierce the pitch blackness as well as suppress her mind's sudden insistence on conjuring up weird, menacing shapes in the dark. Any light from the surface was so slight all it did was bring some grey to the black. Where the hell was that flashlight?

What was it they said about the human mind being capable of making the unreal real? Heart hammering in her chest for no reason that she could think of, Sam reached down to where she'd dropped the flashlight and whipped it up to shine directly where Tula had pointed. The beam fell on more rock wall. Sam's breath whooshed out of her, "See," she said brightly, "It's all in your imagination."

Then a heavy scrape a few feet over on the left caused her to jump a mile and swing the flashlight over. Tula screamed and Sam's eyes went wide. Details stabbed into her brain in flash fire stages, searing her. Yellow eyes glared with feral hatred; matted dark fur covered a huge body, but most of all it was the fangs, huge and glistening that caught her horrified attention. It took a few seconds to realise the thing made no sound and no breathe plumed from that muscular snout. Jesus! It was the size of a big cat. How the hell had it gotten down here?

"Aroonaka," quavered Tula, cowering behind Sam. "I told you."

It had to be some kind of wild animal and they'd invaded its home. "Tula," she said tightly, "It is definitely time for us to leave."

As if it had heard her, the things head lowered and its massive haunches bunched in readiness to leap and pursue.

From behind her, Tula screamed again and clung to Sam's back. Hearing another ominous sound from that side, too, Sam froze. _Oh crap!_

Jack and Daniel arrived just in time to hear a child's high-pitched scream. He didn't waste time trying the radio since Teal'c had found it was inoperable down inside the caves proper. When the Jaffa made a move towards the cave entrance, he stopped him at the same time as he dropped his rifle and attacked the buckles on his vest to strip it off. "No, I'll go this time. I'm leaner than you and can get there quicker."

"I'm smaller still," inserted Daniel, forcefully.

"Forget it, Daniel." The vest was tossed aside. "I've got one civilian down there already. I'm going and that's final."

The second scream came just as he was pushing his second leg into the cave mouth. "I will follow, O'Neill," Teal'c stated and handed him his sidearm. Anything bigger was impossible to get down the shaft.

Jack briskly shook his head, "Keep this free of obstruction and be ready," was all he said before his head and shoulders disappeared.

Inching towards the tunnel and trying to keep a hysterical Tula covered with her own body, Sam swung the flashlight between the two creatures. In her right hand her sidearm was a reassuringly heavy weight. Sudden bursts of static from her radio interfered with her ability to hear if either of them made a move, but with no free hands, she had no way of turning it off. She only hoped it meant that help was on the way.

The beam of light and the Beretta kept swinging in a controlled motion. Cunning glinted, reflecting in predatory yellow eyes. They were on all fours now. Had they moved closer? Maybe, maybe not, she couldn't be sure. What were they waiting for? Sam wasn't certain why, but she sensed an awful intelligence that didn't bode well for her and Tula. Her breathing was shallow, brief quick intakes of air that fuelled her already adrenaline-charged system. Fear crowded at the edges of her mind but she held it bay. She just wished they'd make some sound, anything to give her some warning.

"Keep moving backwards until you feel the tunnel," she told the terrified girl behind her, "Then start climbing and don't look back no matter what, understand?"

"What about you?"

She was trying not to think about that too much. "I'm going to keep them from following you as long as I can, but you have to be quick, okay?"

They didn't make it that far. The flashlight lit on an empty space where a second ago it had been filled with one of the beasts. Tensing and turning, Sam felt a rush of air from dead ahead and brought up the gun to squeeze off two rounds. Gunfire lit the surreal scene for a microsecond, but it was enough to see she'd hit it. The pistol's retort was followed by a whistling yelp of pain. Enclosed as they were, her ears were ringing and the acrid smoke stung her eyes. Blinking to clear coloured spots from her vision, Sam searched for the remaining one in vain. Where the hell was it? The fear crowded closer, crushing her chest in a vice.

Then a strangled snarl from immediately behind and to the right had her grabbing Tula and leaping into the unknown. The move took them in the wrong direction; however, it was infinitely better than getting mauled.

Landing in a roll, she kept herself between the spot they'd leapt from and Tula. The little girl was incoherent with terror, beyond screaming and reduced to moaning pants. Scrabbling with her boots for the necessary purchase and momentum to gain more distance, Sam whipped up the flashlight and gun to begin a systematic search.

She didn't have to look further than the one she'd shot. It wasn't dead only wounded. It lay on its side, the massive body thrashing as it fought against the pain she'd inflicted on it. By the looks and sounds of it the bullets had only enraged it more. The second creature stood a few feet nearer as if it had been pursing them and then stopped dead. As Sam watched, finger tense on the trigger, that heavy head swung back to the other one. Its muzzle lifted in way that reminded Sam of a dog scenting the air. Then it attacked, whirling and leaping on the other one. A cacophony of deafening, blood curdling snarls filled the cave.

Sickened, Sam resisted the impulse to look away. It wasn't a pretty sight. The fight was brutally short and the finish was gory in the extreme. Wounded, the one she'd shot had been swiftly slain before it could get to its feet. Fangs designed to pierce, rip and tear made short work of their comrades exposed throat. Bile rose in her own throat and Sam swallowed it back, eyeing the tunnel that lay just beyond. Would it react if they circled round and back to it?

Before she could make a decision to risk it a pair of boots came into view, blocking their intended escape route. She didn't need to see their owner to know it was Colonel O'Neill. She almost slumped with relief and both arms holding flashlight and gun shook until she steadied them. _Oh, yeah, great idea, Sam. Lose your concentration and get killed just as help arrives_. The beast was still preoccupied with devouring the other and for that she was thankful.

Legs, hips and torso followed the boots, then he was there and he'd never looked a finer sight.

The last part of the tunnel wasn't a vertical drop, but perpendicular and you had to push or pull yourself along to the wider section that finished inside the cave, or so Teal'c had told him until they lost the signal. O'Neill eased himself along and tried not to imagine what the sounds that had erupted since the gunshots could mean. Every part of his body ached from the punishment he'd put it through in the rush to reach his destination. Prayer, fervent or otherwise, wasn't usually his thing, but right now was an exception. _God! Don't let me be too late._

He'd seen enough lifeless bodies in his career to know he really didn't want to see that beautiful face with its quirky grin bloodied and frozen into a death mask, ever, if he could help it. She wasn't dead. He refused to entertain the idea. Carter had too much guts, grit and determination to let herself be taken down. Jack didn't know exactly when suspicion had begun to morph into reluctant admiration, he only knew it had. The fact that realisation only dawned on him while he slipped and slithered his way down a tunnel on an alien planet shamed him. He'd been so damned concerned with shoring up his defences against wanting her that he'd missed the clues until now.

Dumb, so dumb, unbelievable in fact. He deserved to be shot, after he gave her hell for scaring the crap out of him like this of course. That satisfying promise sustained him all the way to the bottom. The first sight that met his eyes had his jaw dropping. He didn't know what he'd been expecting after Tauman's sombre descriptions, but he was pretty certain it hadn't been what he was seeing now.

This was no bunch of assholes dressing up in animal skins to scare the locals into believing they were mythical beasts, as Daniel had suggested en-route; these were the real deal, every nasty inch. And there were a lot of inches.

Searching beyond the gory carnage, the flashlight hurt his eyes after being used to the dark, but he didn't care. The outlines of Carter and Tula behind the light made his heart trip faster. Stepping away from the ledge at the bottom of the tunnel and training his weapon on the creature busy cannibalising its pal, O'Neill gestured for them to come to him. Leaving the flashlight pointing in the direction of the tunnel, they did so, one slow, careful footstep at a time. By the time they reached him, Jack was covered in sweat from the tension that wracked him every time the beast moved. Once or twice he'd been convinced it was onto them, but after a few nightmarish seconds with Carter and Tula frozen into statues, it would snort and return to its meal. Finally, they were close enough for him to scan the pair properly. Tula was ashen, a ghost of the effervescent girl of only a few hours earlier. Carter was pale, too, but the light in her eyes was as bright and alert as ever. Controlled and with her supple body subtly coiled with battle readiness, she looked as prepared to handle any threat as any other seasoned solider he'd ever served with.

Despite his hopes, he'd expected ragged nerves at the very least, but all he could see was iron resolve. There she went, surprising him again.

He didn't say a word and neither did they.

Jerking his chin to indicate they should start the climb back up, he returned his attention back to the beast and kept it there until it was his turn to step back up on the ledge. The second he did, it lifted its head and turned to lock gazes with him. Inside the ring of molten yellow, he saw the pupils contract with the understanding that its true prey was slipping away. Wonderful! The sonavabitch was quick on the uptake.

Without hesitation, Jack methodically squeezed the trigger three times and expected to see lead pumping into that thick skull. Only it didn't as it reared up on hind legs the size of small tree trunks so that the bullets slammed into its torso. Its enraged, bellowing howl vibrated up his spine Then, dropping back to all fours, it charged him.

_Oh shit! _

PART FIVE

O'Neill had never moved so fast in his life. Careless of jutting rock, he literally scrambled up the tunnel and hoped the hell beast or whatever the heck it was, was too big to chase up after him. He wasn't that lucky. As impossible as it was to imagine, the creature was soon snapping and snarling at his heels, literally. As incentives went it was pretty darned unbeatable.

Lions and tigers and bears, oh yeah! He'd take one of them over this butt-ugly thing any day of the week, or even weekend, national holiday, Christmas, New Year…

Something incredibly powerful almost latched onto one boot. Shaking it off before it could get a proper grip, Jack lashed out with the other to try and slow it down. Free again, he speeded up. Coming to a hump that levelled off to flat, he heaved himself over it and nearly smacked his head on the rock above. Ahead of him, he could hear Carter coaxing Tula to go faster and added his own silent pleas for the kid to get her skates on. Snaking on his belly for the few feet before it began to rise again, he tried not to add pictures to go with the sounds of pursuit taking up the rear. Preferring to climb, it was a huge relief to be able to get his feet under him again, until his left boot lost traction and he slipped.

The potential consequences of that slip barely got a chance to register before his heel was crushed in a vice—with razor-sharp teeth. Searing pain followed on swift wings and unable to suppress a yell as white-hot agony shot up his leg, Jack felt the tremendous power and weight of the thing as it began to drag him back down the shaft. Carter, tone sharp with anxiety, called down to him, but returning it was impossible through teeth clenched tight against the incredible pain.

After a single attempt, and realising that resisting that pull was a big, fat no-no unless he wanted his hip ripped out of its socket, Jack stopped trying. Instinct, strongly favouring the urge to survive, thankfully, pumped enough adrenaline into his body to subdue the urge to spew. One thing was clear—if he was going to act it had to be now, because even if he managed to kill it back in the cave he'd never make it back up the tunnel with his left foot in its current condition. He'd been dragged back down about two feet and that was enough.

It paused to gather itself for more tugging.

Hands shaking as the wrenching agony worsened rather than lessened, Jack used that second of respite. Flattening himself as much a possible against the opposite wall of the tunnel, he sighted the Beretta down the length of his body. Everything was pitch-black, but even if it wasn't the sweat dripping into his eyes would have blinded him. Praying he didn't shoot his own foot off, or anything else for that matter, he squeezed off a single round.

The gun shot was deafening in the tunnel. Ears ringing, Jack felt the vice slacken. Gripping the rock wall with his free hand and bracing his other foot, he hauled himself back up.

Sam hustled Tula the rest of the way, unable to keep the tightness out of her voice as she urged the child to go faster. Both palms were raw from gripping the abrasive rock to help haul up her body weight, and the rest of her fared little better; however, none of that even touched on the pain mushrooming in her chest. She had no idea what the gun shot had meant. Had he managed to kill it? It was incredibly tight in here, and no matter how hard she tried, it was impossible to imagine how he'd been able get off a clear shot. A big part of her wanted to go back down and leave the little girl to find her own way, but logic forced her to keep going. She had to face facts, as ugly as they were; in the tight enclosure of the tunnel there was nothing she could do to help O'Neill

Even so, she had the wild idea of reaching the surface and changing around again to go back in hands and face first. That way at least she'd be facing the right direction.

Cold, fresh air on her face gave some indication that they were nearing the surface. They were nearly out. Relief didn't come. Colonel O'Neill had made sure they got out and now he was in trouble, possibly dead. Straining to hear over her thundering heart and Tula's laboured breathing, and failing, Sam was hit by the dual images of a handsome, smirking face with dancing brown eyes, and the beast ripping and tearing at the carcass of its dead kin. The resulting urge to vomit passed and was replaced by determination. If there was a chance O'Neill still lived, she was going back for him.

Decision made, the urgent thud of her pulse demanded she hurry, hurry, hurry, until finally she was pushing at the dirt around the entrance to heave herself out of the hole. Outside and coming up on her knees, she looked up, expecting to see Daniel or Teal'c ready to lend a hand. Instead, she felt her hair snatched up in a cruel hand, yanking back her head, followed by a sharp, slicing sting on her neck as a knife was pressed to her throat.

Blinking to focus on her attacker, Sam saw rabid dark eyes glaring out of a tattooed face.

Battered, bruised, and in considerable pain, Jack rolled free of the tunnel with a strangled and heartfelt "_God_!"

On his back with the pistol aimed squarely at the impassive hole in the earth, he waited a tense few beats to see if the creature had managed to survive being shot in the head. Then, it occurred to him to wonder why Sam, Teal'c and Daniel weren't either rushing to his aid, or helping him secure the entrance. Had Carter forgotten to mention the slathering monster with a taste for military uniforms? Or, maybe he meant foot fetish?

Annoyed and put out, he turned his head, a scowl firmly in place and then gaped in pure, dumb shock. On their knees, disarmed and with some type of machete pressed perilously close to their throats, his team stared back. Somebody had lit a fire to combat the dark of full nightfall. In the flickering amber light, Carter looked pale, composed and very, very relieved. Teal'c was stoic and yet managed to convey the impression of imminent head bashing, while Daniel was looking resigned and a mite pissed off. Of Tula there was no sign and Jack assumed she'd been hustled away.

Going utterly still, he asked, "Uhm, would someone like to tell me what the hell is going on?"

Passing over the three Tahatan men, who had morphed from carefree, peaceful fishermen to implacable barbarians with dizzying ease, he settled on the feather-cloaked priest who was currently mumbling and gesticulating before the alter. Something small, furry and dead lay in place of the fruit. Brown and lithe, the man danced and swayed to the rhythm of his incantations. He didn't have a clue what the nut-job was doing. It was all a bunch of voodoo to O'Neill.

"Tangola has forbidden us to enter the marae except for the time of the moon sacrifices, and then only those that will never return may enter," said the priest, still swaying on his feet with both arms outstretched beseechingly. "It is not yet that time."

Easing his way to a sitting position, Jack had a _bad_ feeling about this, knives not withstanding. "So we mixed up our party dates and now we're in big trouble, is that it?"

Infuriated, the priest whirled to face him, revealing the streaks of blood that dragging fingers had left on his face. "You have broken sacred taboos and angered Tangola. Now he will send his demons to ravage our people." Lips drawn up in a snarl, he advanced and Jack had to give his costume credit for upping the creepy factor. Skeletal remains so small they could only be an infant's hung around his neck and decorated his headpiece. "No longer will they accept the sacrifice of old and crippled…wives, children, _everyone_ will suffer when they emerge from the void."

"Have you considered fighting back?" asked Carter, only to go quiet as the knife dug deeper into her skin.

Shushing her with a wave in her direction, O'Neill felt a pang of guilt and hid it. "The only ones angry around here are you, and very soon, _me_." Dark brown eyes cooled to frosty, "Let my people go, or you can bank on that suffering starting right now, and beginning with _you_!"

From being pointed harmlessly to the side so as not to spook the Tahatan's holding his team at knifepoint, the gun was brought up and pointed dead-centre at the priest's chest. Hearing a muffled grunt and a gasp from the right, he slid his gaze to the impromptu guards and warned softly, "Don't do it."

Tension coiled and snaked around the clearing, constricting everyone present. His gaze dropped to Carter's and connected. Conviction, faith and courage lit the deep blue of her eyes. She trusted him to get them all out of this mess, or at the very least a fighting chance. O'Neill didn't plan on letting her down.

He returned his attention to the priest who was eyeing the Beretta warily. He waggled it for good measure, "Where's everyone else, like King Tauman for example?" His grin was wide and fake, "You don't exactly have _permission_ for this little get-together, do you?"

The priest's eyes slitted, "You should have been stopped from coming here. He did nothing and so I do what I must."

"And what is that, exactly?" piped up Daniel, and winced when his guard did to him what Sam's had to her for speaking out. Blood trickled down his Adam's apple from the thin slice that punishment wrought.

This time the priest answered. "You will go back down and await Tangola's retribution. Nobody is allowed to return from the void."

Like hell! "Not gonna happen," asserted Jack. The pistol didn't waver one iota as he came up on his knees, ignoring the throbbing pain in his left ankle.

They were at a stand-off, but Sam couldn't see it staying that way for much longer. The Tahatan's had three hostages to the Colonel's one and that put him at a distinct disadvantage. If the fourth man hadn't been sent after Tula, who had managed to escape into the forest, it would have been a lot worse though. Silently, she urged the little girl to run as fast as her legs would carry her.

She'd never been so happy to see anyone as she had O'Neill when he followed her out. As dire as the circumstances were, she couldn't help smiling at the thought that the talk about him must be true; he was too damned stubborn to die, or give in. Filthy, with hair standing in tufts over a face that was pale and strained, all the while favouring one leg, he was still a force to be reckoned with.

Admiring that didn't change facts though, but the lights bobbing closer through the trees might, she figured when she caught sight of them out of the corner of her eye. The priest saw them, too, and careless of Jack and his pistol, he hissed in anger and stomped over to meet King Tauman who stepped into the clearing first.

As yet unaware of the new arrivals, and nonplussed at being so ignored when he had a gun pointed at someone, the Colonel was forced to turn if he wanted to keep his so-called hostage in sight. That was when he saw what appeared to be the rest of the village converging on them. Instead of being as surprised as she was however, he threw up his arms and yelled, "What took you folks so long, huh?"

A suspicion formed and Sam frowned. Had he pre-arranged this? That idea relaxed some of the tension wracking her stiff body, and seeing Tula clinging to her father's hand was even more reassuring.

Holding up a hand to silence his loudly protesting priest, King Tauman took in the scene with sombre eyes. "Release them," he said simply.

The three men instantly stepped away from Sam, Daniel and Teal'c. Rising to their feet, they reclaimed their weapons from an untidy stack by the fire and joined Jack. He was trying to get to his feet, too, and not doing a great job of it. Finding it a strangely endearing sight to see him struggle, Sam took his arm and pulled it over her shoulder to take some of his weight. After fearing he was dead, he felt solid and reassuring pressed into her side.

Their eyes met, "Thanks," he said, "But don't think I've forgotten we need to have a little chat about following orders…Doc!"

Staff weapon firmly back in his grasp, Teal'c looked as indomitable as ever. "O'Neill," he said simply as an acknowledgement of his continued existence.

"Nice to see you in one piece, Jack," said Daniel and then pointed towards the growing crowd, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go and help them get rid of him."

"But, but, Tangola must be appeased," sputtered the priest. "They broke the law and must pay or else we all suffer—"

The villagers began to mutter uneasily amongst themselves. "Tangola would not have allowed them to return if he did not wish it," countered Tauman loudly enough for all to hear, "Or, do you claim he is so diminished that he could not keep that which he wanted to keep?"

"Do you think your god would be pleased that you have so little faith in him?" added Daniel, hands in his pockets as he apparently wandered over and warmed to the theme. "Personally, I always thought that was the whole point of having a god—faith, that is."

The priest's eyes bugged with thwarted fury, "I do not doubt my god," he spat, "but you are fools if you think their return isn't a test of our loyalty to him." Backing away towards the forest on the other side of the clearing, he eye-balled the restless crowd. "Soon, you will see that I am right and your weeping will not save you."

Jack watched him go. "Pain-in-the-ass doomsayers," he muttered and shook his head. "There's always one in a crowd. Have you noticed that?"

"Always," Sam smiled.

A vast array of food was spread out before them on a long bed of flat leaves; small mountains of yellow, peach, orange, purple and green fruit in varying sizes were interspersed with whole cooked fish, roasted pig-like animals and diced meat in small bark troughs. Firelight from huge fires dotted around the beach-lit scene, and the slow beat of drums acted as a soporific background to energetic chatter and laughter.

Teal'c was slowly making his way through the fruit having refused the proffered drink after one suspicious sniff. Woozily, O'Neill wished he'd had the same sense. He blamed his lapse on the fact that it tasted as innocuous as fruit juice; that and the fact that his ankle was itching like crazy and driving him nuts.

"Jack, smile, this isn't a wake for God's sake!" Daniel hissed from his seat opposite him. "Remember all of this is supposed to be in yours and Sam's honour for saving Tula."

Obediently his face cracked into a patently false smile. "I'm not a social lion like you, Daniel, and did I mention that I'm finding all of this a mite odd after nearly being 'sacrificed' a couple of hours ago?" Diatribe finished, he waved and nodded at an enquiring Tauman and picked up something that resembled an apple. This time he did sniff it before biting into it.

"King Tauman is distracting his people with some fun and needs us to help him keep it friendly." He shrugged and picked up a morsel of meat. "Labelling you both heroes and declaring a celebration makes sense if you look at it in that light."

"That may be so, Daniel Jackson, but I for one will be pleased to leave this place and return to the SGC," declared Teal'c. Unlike the others he had removed the flowers crowding his neck within moments of having them put there.

"I'm with ya on that one, Teal'c." Jack twisted around to the stare back towards the village. "Did anyone see where they took Carter?"

"_Sure_, Jack, as if you didn't watch her every step like a hawk," Daniel scoffed, too light-headed to appreciate the warning glare he received in response. "Sam's fine, they asked her if she'd take part in the dance and she agreed. I think it was pretty courageous of her to give it a try."

"Do the Tauri not dance?" asked Teal'c, his curiosity piqued.

"Only when we're too drunk to realise how dumb we look," retorted Jack sourly, "As for Carter courage had nothing to do with it. She's drunk fer cryin' out loud."

"This stuff is pretty potent," agreed Daniel, tipping his wooden cup to eye the bottom owlishly. "I think there maybe some kind of drug in here, too, because I feel _great_!"

"Which is why we shouldn't be drinking it," snarled Jack and then promptly leaned over to swipe it out of his hands. The cup and contents ended up on the sand a few feet away. There was a shocked pause. A little stunned himself, Jack hid it well and said gruffly, "We need to keep sharp. I'm not so convinced by Tauman's certainty that those things never come up to the surface except a couple of times a year on a full moon."

"Twice a year during this planet's lunar zenith," Daniel corrected. Then brows snapping together to form a scowl, he was roused enough from his happy stupor to protest, "What the hell's wrong with you? It's not like you haven't had some yourself, and you've been acting like a bear with a sore head ever since General Hammond radioed through."

"Are you not pleased that General Hammond has promised assistance, O'Neill?" asked Teal'c, unfazed by his commander's show of temper.

Ignoring Daniel and wrestling back his foul mood, Jack tossed the apple and raked his hands through his hair before answering, "Sure, except we're still stuck here until he manages to find a way of stripping another DHD while the wormhole's still active. In the meantime, we can't get in-touch unless they activate the 'gate. Not my idea of intergalactic fun and games, y'know."

It was an apology of sorts. Flicking a glance at Daniel, he saw it went right over the archaeologist's head. The reason for that soon became clear when he turned to see what could possibly be so engrossing, and spotted Carter. She wasn't alone and more to the point, she wasn't in uniform, nowhere near it. It was only when Jack realised why he was going dizzy that he ordered his lungs to suck in some O2.

"Wow!" Daniel murmured.

Powerless to do otherwise, Jack agreed with that assessment. She looked— sensational. He didn't know whether to be relieved or not that she wasn't bare-chested like the rest. Tall, blonde and with a pair of legs that looked like they'd been designed to wrap around a man and keep him where she wanted, she stood out anyway.

The next twenty minutes or so were both heaven and hell. The dance was evocative in every sense and Carter was the centre of it. The Tahatan's didn't have a shy or prudish bone on their bodies. Watching it was like watching a bunch of guys throwing themselves at her feet, while the rest enacted exactly what they wanted from her with the other girls. _Jesus Kerrist!_ It was like they were doin' it right there on the sand, a group orgy almost. He couldn't look away from her, didn't dare. If they tried that with her, he was going to have to spoil the party and break it up he decided; he refused to go into his reasons why. How could she seem so oblivious to it all? As if to answer to his incredulous question, dazed, unfocused blue eyes clashed with and then latched onto his. Jack's heart skipped a beat when she grinned at him, wide and bright, and then sunk when they snatched her up and onto their shoulders to whirl her away.

Daniel, the idiot, was clapping away to the drums and laughing so hard his glasses ended up skewed on his face. Wondering what the hell was so funny, O'Neill was hit by the fact that this fiasco was beginning to seem surreal. Either that or he was getting too old for this crap.

By the end, both the drummers and the dancers were in a frenzy and the thundering climax nearly gave him a heart attack. Literally on his last nerve, Jack's forehead was beaded with sweat and the fire in his guts had nothing to do with arousal, or not so much. He was pissed. No, make that royally pissed. He told himself it was because of the circumstances and/of his team being compromised so easily, with the exception of Teal'c, and refused to accept the little voice that admitted he was lying to himself.

He wanted to blame Carter, bawl her out until he was satisfied that she understood what he would and wouldn't allow; except he couldn't, because he'd drunk the same stuff as she and Daniel had. None of them had realised in time. Knowing that, assigning blame was ridiculous and unfair. Still, rage churned and he shot to his feet. Not a great idea. The second he was on his feet, the world tilted on its axis and he almost fell on his ass again as a fresh wave of dizziness assaulted him.

"Jack, are you okay? Daniel asked, visibly concerned and baffled about exactly why. That in itself was worrying. Daniel was normally much, much sharper than that.

"Fine, just peachy," he snapped having battled for and won his balance. The scene righted itself enough for him to state unequivocally, "From now on we stick with water only, got it?"

That said he turned to leave, albeit staggering a little. Teal'c went to rise and follow, saying, "I will accompany you, O'Neill."

"No, stay with Daniel, he's worse than I am," he said, sucking in a breath in a vain attempt to clear his head. Damn! This planet was a minefield, not a paradise. "I'm just going to get some air." A few steps on, he added, "And when Carter finds her way back, make sure she stays put."

A few meters down the beach, he did what he'd wanted to do the first time he saw it and sat down to pull off his boots and socks. The field dressing Carter had put on his ankle was secure, but he took it off anyway. Then, using what little firelight reached this far, he inspected it and blinked, sure he must be seeing things. Wonderingly, he ran his fingers over nearly healed scars and then scratched at the skin hard enough to create new ones.

Why the hell was it so darned itchy?

"You shouldn't have done that, Colonel," said a voice he recognised, "You could get an infection."

His wound was instantly forgotten. Drawn like metal to magnets, his gaze lit on and travelled up endless bare legs, over a skimpy grass skirt and upwards to settle on a beautiful face. Starlight and firelight competed to gild her hair. Irritated anew by this uncomfortable attraction, he said harshly, "You think _now_ is a good time to have a conversation on what you should and shouldn't do off-world, Dr. Carter?"

Normally his tone alone would have had her hackles rising, but adding in her full title would have been the clincher. Now, she just seemed baffled by his rancour. "Why are you so angry?" she asked, "Aren't you having fun?"

Ms-I-can't-think-of-anything-else-but-science was talking to him about _fun, here_?! "Y'know me, normally I'm all about the fun," he quipped, and then finished sarcastically, "but, today for some reason, I can't seem to forget the pesky facts that we both almost got killed and are still cut off from going home."

"Oh," was all she said and started chewing on her lip. Behind her the revellery continued unabated.

That was another sign she wasn't herself. Normally she was quick to pick up on nuances like, 'leave me the hell alone'. She wanted to stay? So be it. Jack stood, "Speaking of which, we never did have that little chat about your actions earlier."

For the first time since he'd met her, she was slow on the uptake, "Actions?" she queried.

"Going against my explicit order not to go into those caves," he enunciated clearly, hands on hips.

"I'm sorry about that, Colonel, but Tula was frightened, alone and in the dark," she said slowly, finally picking up the threads and connecting them. "I had to do something."

"Not against my orders, Doctor." His tone brooked no argument. As far as he was concerned he was simply stating a fact. Like water being wet and that the sun rose every morning.

Despite the relative darkness, he could see some of the alcohol-induced fog dissipating. Her eyes turned frosty and chin lifted. "Fine," she said stiffly, adding, "I can see now that I've disturbed you. I'll leave you to it."

Watching her turn to leave shouldn't have bugged him, but it did. "I'll tell you what disturbs me, Carter, you getting ambushed twice in the space of an hour."

She spun back, "What the heck does that mean?"

Grim-faced, he stared back, "I thought you said you could handle yourself."

A lot of things would later get blamed on the drink and what happened next was one of them, both for him not seeing it coming, and Carter for acting so recklessly. One second they were facing off and the next he was flat on his back on the sand. Hands on her hips, Carter stood over him. "I am _so_ **tired** of you doubting me all the time!"

"Too bad," he grated and kicked out in a swinging arc.

She landed next to him and it was pure instinct that drove Jack to pounce and flatten her back when she went to get up again. His hands were wrapped around her upper arms with his weight bearing her down. As he watched her eyes slitted with determination just before she managed to reverse their positions. Straddling him, she snapped, "I can't believe I was so worried about you, I was planning to go back into that damned tunnel to save you."

This time, Jack levered up and used both their weights to keep the momentum going enough to land Carter on her back again. He'd acted without thinking, though, thanks to her unwitting confession having knocked the wind out of his sails- verbally that is. As an alternative his frazzled brain came up with something that stunned them both.

He kissed her.

TBC


	4. Chapter 6 & 7

PART SIX

Water, lapping languidly at the beach only a few feet away, was drowned out by her thrumming pulse, while the distant sounds of celebration faded completely. Somehow, Sam's hands ended up anchored in his hair as she angled her mouth to receive his kiss, match it and then beat it for fervour. He smelled of soap and man, an indefinable scent that only heightened her need for more. God! She wanted him. She also wanted to kick his ass, but that impulse was being channelled elsewhere and the tight coil in her belly happily transformed itself from anger into arousal.

He was heavy, but the sand shifted beneath her back to accommodate them. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she twisted to manipulate him fully into the cradle of her pelvis. That done, she moaned long and low when the bulge of his arousal settled exactly where she craved it. Legs tightening in an automatic response, she tried to clamp down on the spears of want that shot out from that contact. Meanwhile, he swept deep, plumbing her willing mouth while the stubble on his jaw rasped against her skin. She met him, sliding and twining her tongue around his, blindly egging him on and already aware that it wasn't enough.

She wanted more. No, she wanted it all; to hear him beg and return the favour until they both couldn't take it anymore. A part of her was aghast at the sudden madness that had deluged her common sense, obliterating it in short order, but it was a small part and easily silenced. Now, pure want tore into her with razor sharp talons and Sam whimpered, writhing against him.

His leaving was shockingly abrupt. One moment, he was a wonderful weight bearing her down and the next she was left adrift on a sea of confused, desperate need. His explosive, "_Crap!_" brought her head round to stare at him lying beside her.

The question burst out before she could stop it, "Why did you stop?"

O'Neill swore and covered his face with both hands before jerking upright to sit up. His brief, seething glance was full of incredulity. "Are you _nuts_?!" Then he closed his eyes and looked away shaking his head, "Forget I asked. Damn! You probably don't even know who your kissing, or care?"

That rather offensive statement didn't get a chance to be fully assimilated before he got to his feet and, snagging her elbow, dragged her up, too. "C'mon," he ordered gruffly, "you and Daniel need to sleep this off, pronto!"

"Hey!" she protested, yanking her arm free, "_You_ kissed _me_, remember?"

She stopped, refusing to budge another inch and he turned back around, frustration etched on his face. "Okay, _fine_, you, Daniel and I need to sleep this off." Having said that, O'Neill gave an exaggerated bow and gestured her to precede him. "Now, will you get moving?"

Teal'c had followed Dr. Carter when she didn't return directly to the group, but instead skirted around them to proceed down the beach. Leaving Daniel Jackson with King Tauman, he kept her in sight and relaxed when she stopped to speak with O'Neill. Seeking a vantage point where he could keep all three of his Tauri comrades in sight, he ruminated on the pitfalls of being human, and there where many. Freedom from their dependence on the goa'uld symbiotes would come with a price for the Jaffa, he realised, if that joyous occasion ever materialised; chiefly, they would be susceptible to substances that could induce erratic and questionable behaviour in even the most sedate of people.

Dr. Carter's participation in the native dancing had surprised him. Before now, she seemed to carry within her a warrior's spirit. Finding out that it went hand-in-hand with a playful, inquisitive mind revealed under the influence of said substance was interesting, as was O'Neill's reaction to her actions. Teal'c understood and approved of his discomfort with having half of his team all but disabled. As a warrior and one-time leader of men himself, he could 'relate' as they would say. To him, O'Neill's reaction was appropriate; however, he was old enough to recognise there was another element to the man's anger, and that was before they began to do battle right there on the sand.

Taken aback, an eyebrow climbed as Teal'c tried to establish the cause of the altercation, only to feel the brow rise higher when it ended in a heated embrace. The Tauri were definitely an interesting race, he thought, as he discreetly turned his back on the couple entangled on the sand. Strangely, he could not find it within him to judge them harshly. He remembered all too well how such things can light a conflagration even when one fought to keep the embers dampened down. Shoving his own past back to the recesses of his mind where it belonged, Teal'c accepted that the passion and fire necessary to stand up to the goa'uld would come with some negatives. The Tauri had both in abundance if his team-mates were any indication.

Friends not team-mates, he amended, watching Daniel Jackson stagger towards him, calling his name as if they were brothers. Going to join the man whose beloved wife he had consigned to hell, Teal'c conceded that loyalty and forgiveness were other attributes his adopted friends displayed and, of that, he also approved and deeply appreciated.

Taking all of that into consideration, having to stand watch over them every once in a while was acceptable.

Sam felt like the world's biggest idiot—ever. Lying on a woven pallet on the floor of the hut, she was deeply grateful for the darkness that hid her manic blushes. What the hell had gotten into her? She never acted so…so…impulsive, foolish, rash, mindless. The list was endless as she continued to berate herself. That dumb dance had been bad enough, but what had she been thinking to confront the Colonel like that? What he must think of her now didn't bear thinking about. Unfortunately, she didn't seem capable of thinking of anything else.

She could just picture his glee as he typed out his report and handed it to General Hammond. Yeesh, she'd be lucky to be allowed to test the Stargate in the future, never mind step through it to go on missions.

Tension knotted in her belly and she flopped over onto her back with a puffed out sigh. It was beginning to feel like she was stuck in a nightmare where everywhere she turned, she came across a distorted image of herself, like fairground funhouse mirrors. Damn! This so wasn't what she'd envisaged when she'd joined the SGC. Then, she'd fantasised about wowing everyone with her professionalism, dedication, problem solving abilities and technical knowledge. She'd planned on being indispensable and not making waves.

God! Where had she gone wrong? Oh yeah, Colonel O'Neill.

It was true that _he'd_ kissed _her_ though and, if memory served, Daniel had been looking a little worse for wear when she and the Colonel had caught up with him and Teal'c. Did that excuse her making such an exhibition of herself, or for attacking the man who was essentially her commanding officer, sort of?

She didn't think so, and either way, she had a lot of explaining to do. The problem was she didn't know where to start. It was all a bit hazy. She'd been thirsty when they finished the trek back to the village, and when she'd asked for water she'd been brought some of the juice they'd been preparing for the feast. From the moment she'd drained the cup and asked for another, Sam had been riding an almost drugged euphoric high. Great, wonderful, just what she'd needed. Wouldn't Dad be proud?

Tired of the mental gymnastics that refused to offer up any helpful solutions, Sam gave up on sleep and sat up, hugging her knees tight to her chest. Being back in her uniform, minus the jacket, was a huge relief and she was grudgingly grateful for O'Neill's insistence that she change. She glanced towards his sleeping form, curled up on his side with his back to her. A foot away, Daniel was sprawled on his back, arms out-slung and giving out an occasional long snore. As for Teal'c, he was sitting straight-backed and appeared oblivious, sunk deep into his ritual kel-no-reem.

Searching for a distraction that wouldn't risk disturbing them, she recalled the device she'd found and eagerly reached out to grasp her backpack. Examining it by torchlight wasn't the most desired of circumstances, but it was better than sitting here going stir-crazy over things she couldn't change.

It looked innocuous on her palm and just like the 'pebble' Colonel O'Neill had labelled it. Then, as if it had been waiting only for the warmth of her skin, it began to hum. During the microsecond it took for her hand to obey her brain and drop it, the device emitted a high-pitched noise and a brilliant white light enveloped her.

Sam flung it away and scrambled back, feeling crisp, dry earth under her fingers. In the afterglow of that blinding flash, she saw it land amongst some tree roots. _Tree roots?_ Jerking her head around, she gaped in disbelief. She wasn't in the hut anymore, but in the forest. How? A few feet away the flames of a fire flickered and spat, lighting the clearing she found herself in. The fire must have been lit by the person who had brought her here, Sam reasoned. Despite the firelight, it was too dark to see more than some vague shapes.

"So much for my thinking it's a communicator," she muttered to herself, getting up and dusting off her hands.

"It serves that function, too," advised a voice from behind her.

Sam whirled, reaching for her sidearm before realising it was still beside her pallet in the hut. Unarmed, she was left only with bravado. Lifting her chin, she demanded, "Who are you?"

"I am known as Janth," he told her, "and you are Samantha Carter, yes?"

He was in his late sixties and held himself with dignity. Pale hands were clasped over a long, dark tunic that reached almost to the forest floor. He was a dramatic figure, and with his grey hair set off by a widow's peak, he only needed a long flowing beard to give him a wizard-ish look. As he introduced himself, he gave a stately bow.

Pale blue eyes regarded her solemnly from under thick grey brows. Keeping a wary eye on him, she frowned, asking, "How do you know my name?"

"I have heard it spoken," he told her and then waved it off, "I will return to that later, if you do not mind. I have things I wish to tell you and am unsure of how much time is left."

Inexplicably, chills roughened her skin into goose-bumps while she tried to figure out how this man might have heard her name. Her logical, analytical side insisted he must have been picking up their radio transmissions; either that or the device had been active from the moment she'd found it. Whichever, or whatever was the answer, she wasn't going to get at it if she didn't agree to listen. Besides that, curiosity began to override alarm. More importantly, this man appeared a far better candidate for disabling a Stargate than the Tahatan's. This odd meeting could be the breakthrough they needed to get home.

While she mulled this over, Janth moved over to the fire, ostensibly keeping his distance and then folded himself into sitting cross-legged on the ground. Marvelling at his nimbleness, Sam mimicked him. "So, Janth, what's so urgent that you brought me here, or should I say teleported me here?"

He gave a slight smile, "Teleported is an adequate description," he agreed. "It was once my people's most common method of travel from one point to another and, as you surmised, communication. Still is for those if us here."

She filed away the fact that he was not alone, and said a little stiffly, "A little warning of what you were going to do wouldn't have gone amiss, Janth."

"That would have been the polite thing to do, I agree." Janth conceded with an apologetic grimace. "And my sincere apologies if you were startled. My excuse is that I was concerned that you might delay your agreement. You are in danger, Sam Carter, as are all of your friends," Janth warned without preamble. "I have acted this way in order to prevent another tragedy."

Sam stared at him over the flickering orange and gold flames, "From who exactly? Your people or those things we encountered today?"

Sadness, as thick as a shroud, descended over the figure opposite her, "Those 'things' as you call them _are_ my people. You killed two of my oldest friends today."

Unwillingly, Daniel swam back to consciousness, but only after the hand shaking his shoulder refused to heed his protesting moans and inaccurately swatting hand. Between the throbbing between his ears and the churning of his guts, it took some more vigorous shaking for him to actually crack open his eyelids.

Though blurred and glimpsed through mere slits, he still recognised Teal'c as his tormentor. "Tell, Jack, I'm taking the day off," he muttered and went to roll over. It was a bad mistake, as he soon found out when his abdomen seriously resented the pressure and let him know it in no uncertain terms.

He immediately rolled back with a groan, "Oh, crap! I think I'm gonna to be sick."

"There is no time to be sick, Daniel Jackson" advised Teal'c grimly. "Dr. Carter is missing and O'Neill appears to be gravely ill."

Reddened,bloodshot blue eyes made a longer appearance. "Sam's missing?" he asked as if hoping he'd misheard, "And how sick is sick?" Considering the lack of consideration he was getting, Daniel had a sinking feeling 'gravely ill' to a Jaffa was his idea of a death bed.

"I witnessed Dr. Carter disappear into thin air," said Teal'c, apparently uncaring of how unlikely that statement sounded "When I attempted to wake O'Neill to advise him of this, I noticed his body-heat is far in excess of normal; I was unsuccessful in awakening him."

"Help me up," Daniel demanded and held out a hand for the Jaffa to assist him to his feet.

Staggering over to Jack's pallet, he fell heavily to his knees beside it and bit back another groan when his head responded with an extra painful throb. He didn't need to touch him to know something was seriously wrong with Jack. His face was beaded with sweat, as was his hair and the visible portion of his t-shirt. Still, more as a ritual than anything else, he laid the back of his hand against that damp forehead, grimacing at the heat he could feel even before their skin made contact.

"Okay," he puffed out, "I need to get some meds into Jack to try and get the temperature down. Meanwhile you do what you can to find out where Sam's gone." He waved at the hut's doorway, "Do a perimeter search or something."

Hesitating, the Jaffa looked for a moment like he wanted to protest, but then he inclined his head, saying, "I will be back shortly. Do what you can for O'Neill."

There was a stunned pause. "Your people?" Sam echoed disbelievingly. "How is that possible? They weren't even human." She didn't touch the second part of his incredible statement.

"They were once," Janth countered, "and still are to some degree. Although less over the years since we were banished here."

"Excuse me," she queried, "banished?"

"If you have the patience to listen to an old man rambling, I will you how that came to pass.

"Well, sure, ramble away. I'm all ears." What else could she say?

He smiled, a sad distant curve if his lips, "Do not worry, I will endeavour to keep it short." Then an undeniably charming sparkle entered his eyes, "However, I should warn you it has been a long time since I have been able to converse with such a beautiful, intelligent person as yourself."

Never having learned the art of taking compliments well, Sam gave an uncomfortable smile and didn't reply, thankful when he continued without benefit of one.

"Also, I will start at the beginning to avoid confusion later." He paused to gather his thoughts. "A long time ago, my planet suffered through an epidemic that threatened our whole society." He waved a hand, "The disease was not fatal, but it did leave the body incapable of healing itself, or allowing the blood from a minor wound to clot. Hundred of thousands died from simple falls that should have been nothing more than a nuisance."

"I'm sorry," Sam interjected, feeling his pain despite herself. "We have a similar disorder on my planet. Although, for us it's a genetic disease and not a communicable one."

He inclined his head in acceptance of her sympathy. "We were an advanced culture as you will have guessed. I was a part of the medical teams assigned to finding a cure; however, despite our efforts we could not find one. A vaccine was eventually produced, but by then it was too late for a large percentage of our people."

That pale gaze turned inward, his thoughts visibly travelling to the past, "I worked day and night for many years. In the end I was desperate. My children were at risk, you see, and that desperation was my undoing." His voice turned heavy with self-recrimination. "In the last year, I performed several experiments that my leaders had already assessed and deemed too dangerous; they forbade me to perform them. An instruction I ignored."

"Genetic experiments?" Sam hazarded, not at all sure that she believed what she was hearing. Genetically splicing a mythical animal with human DNA was outside the realm of sanity, surely? She wondered if she was dreaming and actually pinched herself surreptitiously. It didn't work.

Janth refocused back on her, and said, "If you mean the manipulation of cells containing all information pertaining to life, then, precisely."

With that clarified, he continued. "Long ago in our most ancient history, there was a creature that some came to believe a mere myth. Still, stories abounded about it; I was only interested in some aspects, however. According to legend it had unheard of healing abilities, as well as the ability to be genetically compatible with other species. I managed to procure a quantity of… 'genetic' material from a less than reputable source. To give them credit, it turned out to be the complete code; however, I had no intention of creating a live organism, so I separated the attributes I did want—"

"Gene splicing," cut in Sam, and seeing his questioning look, she shrugged, "It's outside my field, but there's been enough progress in recent years to make it newsworthy back home."

He continued, "There was a lot more involved as this took place over many years, but to simplify matters, I will only say that, since my experiments were unsanctioned, I tried the results of my work on myself first."

Despite her scepticism, Sam's brows rose, appreciating the risk he'd taken, "I bet that was interesting," she said, and then sighed, compelled to admit bluntly, "Look, I'm not saying I don't believe you, but this all sounds a little…" she grimaced, "out there to me. Also, I really don't know why you're telling _me_ all of this?"

He'd mentioned danger, but given she was struggling to accept any of his story, even that was losing some impact. To accept the latter, she would have to accept the former and she wasn't sure she could. The Tahatans worshipping some local predators and feeding them, inadvertently assuring the beasts stayed in the area, was a lot more feasible to her than what Janth was suggesting.

Her attempt to get him to cut to the chase was unsuccessful. "I am telling you this because I believe you to be a young woman of integrity and courage," Janth said irritably, "now, if you will let me finish you may find things become clearer."

With his precise, formal speech patterns, he reminded her of one of her more exacting college professors. Suitably reprimanded, Sam held up her hand, "Okay, you're right. Sorry! Please continue."

Sparing her an impatient glance, Janth got back to the story he was trying to recite. "My experiment appeared to work without side effects, and we widened the sample to include the dozen or so colleagues involved with me at the time." He heaved a sigh, and his hesitation suggested the story was about to get a lot darker. "I remember that time as if it were yesterday. We were so happy, certain of our success and oblivious to the outside world with its stories about monsters, murder and maiming. As soon as we felt able, we presented our findings to the medical council and it was only when we were apprehended shortly after that we realised that of which we had been unaware—"

"You were the murderers?"

He nodded sorrowfully, "Worse, our numbers had grown. I had not managed to isolate and remove the creature's ability to mix with other species through the transfer of life code into a new environment. Eventually, all of us were rounded up and banished to an isolated, unpopulated planet." His gesture took in the primal forest surrounding them. "The idea being that we would not be able to spread the problem any further."

Sam was confused, "But there's a Stargate here. Why didn't you just dial it up and leave."

"The device of which you speak was brought here by the same ships that brought the Tahatan's," Janth told her. "By then, we were fully aware of the monsters we had become and did not wish to go home."

"And the Tahatans?"

Janth's long, pale face went tight for a moment before age and despair returned. "I am ashamed to say that after we ravaged their oppressors, we developed a truly ungovernable hunger for flesh. We tried, but no other creature on the planet would suffice. Originally, I had dismissed those ancient myths as nothing more than tales to scare children." Spreading hands that shook, Janth finished, "I was wrong."

"You call that wrong?" Sam queried sharply, "Are you kidding? Try appalling, monstrous." Tossing up her hands, she exclaimed in disgust, "Janth, you have these people _sacrificing_ themselves to you. You let them believe that you are their gods and then _kill_ them."

Whether she believed in bizarre experiments resulting in the ability to shape-shift, or not, she'd smelled death in those caves, sensed it. Heck! Maybe these aliens were a bunch of psychos sent here so as not to cause trouble at home with their crazy beliefs about being monsters, only to find monsters already here and tame them enough to feed their delusions. That wasn't a comforting line of thought. Being as inconspicuous as possible, she did a scan of the area for possible weapons in case she needed to defend herself.

"I do not refute your accusations," he replied, "Most of the year we spend in stasis, technological cocoons that sustain us and keep us asleep, as well as preventing us from harming others. This method of surviving has kept us alive over hundreds of generations, far past the point we should have died. However, twice a year we awaken, maddened with starvation, and feed."

"You look okay to me," she shot back.

Across from her, Janth shook his head sadly, "This is not me, but a false presentation of my physical form. If I were truly with you, I would be overcome with hunger and transform into a monster. That is unacceptable to me."

"Yeah, well, that goes ditto for me," Sam, still refusing to believe, got to her feet and strode over. When she reached out to touch him, she truly expected to feel a real person, but her hand passed through him with barely a ripple. "You really are a hologram," she murmured, taken aback.

"I wish you no harm, Sam Carter."

She rubbed her brow feeling a headache brewing behind her eyes as the information he'd force fed her over the last, however many minutes whirled and refused to settle into a logic she could accept. With one hand on her hip, she held the other one up, semi-apologetically, "Shape-shifting is the stuff of horror stories, Janth, and while I love a good sci-fi as much the next gal, this is just too much for me to believe. I'm sorry."

"I tell you the truth for you to do with it as you will," he returned. "Tomorrow night is the full moon and then you will find out, at your own cost, that I speak true." He held up a hand to silence her when she would have interrupted. "I have tried to intervene and failed. This time it will be different. Paranoia and madness have distorted those I tainted with my curse. They fear the influence you may have had and do not intend to wait for a sacrifice to be offered—"

"You guys are going to attack the village, aren't you?" All of a sudden, Sam felt sick. Whether she believed the things she'd seen in the caves were people turned monsters, or simply a wild, indigenous predator, the outcome of such an attack would still be nightmarish. "That's not fair. The Tahatan's have done nothing to you except honour you. They're a peaceful people."

"So they are," he agreed, "However, now you have shown them that we can be confronted and killed."

Seeing where this was going, Sam went white, guilt preventing her from making an argument. Janth did not wait for a reply, "My brethren fear an attack while we sleep and will not be swayed from nipping such lethal notions before they can take hold."

Spinning on her heel, Sam made a beeline for the device that brought her here. "Send me back, Janth, _now_!"

"I will do so, Sam, however, there is one more truth that I must tell you, and you _must_ listen."

Wondering what else he could possibly have to say, Sam turned and braced herself, saying tersely, "Go on, I'm listening."

The image of the elderly man hadn't moved. "There is a very good reason that we have forbidden entry into the caves to all but those to be sacrificed. None who enter must return, not if we are to prevent this curse from reaching out to infect the innocent."

"Is that why you disabled the Stargate?" It was a wild guess, but it made sense given what he'd already told her.

"That was done without my knowledge or permission. Unfortunately, a few of my colleagues acted out of panic, thinking more of you would arrive. I truly wish it were otherwise, because it has led to more disaster." His pause was heavy with meaning, "I'm sorry to say this to you, my dear, but you have to kill the man you call Colonel."

PART SEVEN

Sam re-materialised inside the hut and found the situation very different than the peaceful, slumbering scene she'd been yanked from. Dawn, a mere promise glimpsed through the tree canopy when she'd been talking with Janth, was clearly approaching as light filtered in through the hut's woven walls. Directly ahead, Teal'c lowered his staff weapon, rose from his defensive crouch and inclined his head to say, "It is good to see you unharmed, Dr. Carter."

Daniel, wan and pale was staring at her, blinking as he had a habit of doing when he was disconcerted, and appeared to be midway through coaxing a cupful of fluid into the Colonel. "That was some grand entrance, Sam," he deadpanned and quirked a brow, "Care to share?" His expression said what he hadn't—that he was delighted to see her.

Hearing her name spoken, glazed dark eyes opened and on seeing her, O'Neill seemed to relax a little. Daniel's prod for details barely registered. The Colonel's flushed, feverish face had her stomach clutching with fear. "What's wrong with him?" she asked, coming over after tossing the device back onto her pallet. As soon as she was able, she was going to secure it to make sure nobody else could get transported elsewhere. Hunkering down next to a kneeling Daniel, she resisted the urge to reach out and touch him.

"We're not entirely sure," Daniel admitted, getting back to the Herculean task of getting O'Neill to cooperate and drink. "I'm guessing it could be an infection from that bite earlier, but the wound looks great to me, better than great, actually." Putting the now empty cup aside, he tacked on pointedly, "He's better than he was, and I was going to say at least he's conscious, but I'm quickly coming to the conclusion that as a patient he's easier unconscious."

"I'll be fine," grumbled O'Neill with a dark look at the archaeologist for the inference. "I've had my rabies shot," he quipped, "This is just some pain in the ass bug is all."

After summarily dismissing his illness, he struggled up, shrugging off Daniel's attempt to keep him prone, and pinned Sam with a fever bright gaze that nevertheless warned her that her explanation had better be good, and fast. "Where'd' ya go?" he demanded simply.

"Uhm…" Oh Jesus! Where to start? Taking a leaf out of Janth's book, she sucked in a breath and started at the beginning. "I woke up and couldn't drift back off, so I decided to take a look at that alien device I found outside the caves." They followed her glance back the device in question. "Almost as soon I touched it, or rather, laid it on my hand, I was transported to somewhere in the forest." She paused, "And there was someone waiting for me at my destination."

Half an hour later and sitting with his back propped against a wall, Jack felt stronger, enough that he was embarrassed that he'd had to have his head held while meds were poured down his throat—twice. The trembling weakness in his limbs had subsided, but he was still feeling woozy and light-headed. Admittedly, that could just as well be due to the story Carter had just relayed. "Excuse me! Are you telling me I'm going to turn into one of those things?" He scowled, "What is this…House of Horror week?"

"According to Janth when I pressed him, there is a fifty-fifty chance. Apparently it doesn't always take, or the body fights it off and wins."

Daniel was looking blank, too blank, carefully blank. He sucked on his upper lip and then shot Sam a look. "Did this Janth look like he was…" he shrugged, "…I don't know, all there?"

"Oh come on! What kind of a dumb question is that?" jumped in Jack, "Of _course_ the guy was a wacko!"

"Hey! I'm not saying any of this is true. I reacted and thought the same way you are now." Carter spread her hands and gave Jack a direct, challenging look, "I'm not necessarily buying into any of this, just passing it on as it was told to me, okay."

In other words, don't shoot the messenger; Jack wouldn't normally, but he still hadn't forgiven her for the twenty minutes or so of hell she'd given him when he'd become cognizant enough to be told she'd been zapped off to God knows where. The relief he'd felt seeing her standing there, all bright and disgustingly chipper, had been almost as debilitating as the damn fever. Adamantly, he said, "There is nothing freakishly supernatural about me getting sick. Despite having the constitution of an ox, it does happen occasionally."

"Teal'c, you know better than we do about the kinds of technology that are out there," said Daniel, bringing the Jaffa into the debate, "Have you ever heard of anything like this?"

All attention swung his way. Sitting cross-legged with his staff weapon laid across his lap, Teal'c's dark eyes turned inward. Moments later, he shook his head, "I can think of no such ability in any of the races with which Apophis engaged in battle. Indeed, if such an ability was known to the goa'uld, they would have been seeking it with great fervour."

"In other words, no," summed up Jack with deep satisfaction, and in a small part of himself, incredible relief. "That settles it. The guy was definitely a few—"

"Not necessarily, Colonel," Carter interrupted.

He didn't let her, "When I start scratching behind my ears and chasing my tail, among other things, feel free to do whatever you feel is necessary," he bit out. "Until then, Doc, we'll go with the assumption that werewolves, vampires, and any of the other things that supposedly go bump in the night are pure fallacy, okay?"

She didn't back down, "I was merely going to say that we shouldn't underestimate the threat to the village, and ourselves, from Janth's colleagues. If nothing else they could have advanced weapons and maybe a few more of those creatures at their command."

There was an uncomfortable pause. Jack felt like an idiot for biting her head off. "Oh, well, in that case, sure. I agree."

"We should inform King Tauman of the threat to his people," pointed out Teal'c. "And offer our assistance in defending the village."

"I agree," said Daniel, taking his glasses off to tiredly rub at his eyes, "And isn't that going to go down well?"

Daniel Jackson was wrong. Unless of course, and as Teal'c suspected, he had meant the opposite when he'd suggested the news of an attack would be well received. The Tauri, he noted, had an almost compulsive urge to complicate simple matters, in their speech particularly. This habit of saying one thing while meaning another had initially confused and, secretly, irritated him, but less so now as he recognised it as a mechanism for gathering the strength necessary to perform a difficult task. He would meditate. O'Neill and Dr Jackson would use sarcasm. He found a Tauri phrase to suit—each to their own.

Standing close enough to O'Neill to assist if he stumbled, without appearing to expect such an occurrence, he watched the tattooed priest who had returned while they slept, whirl about, ranting and gesticulating wildly. In his opinion the man needed retraining, and possibly gagging, but he made no move towards him. Free speech was a concept foreign to him, but not to O'Neill who, despite appearing to wish he could take forcible action, would not do so except to respond to a direct threat.

There was honour in that and Teal'c respected it.

Finally the priest wound down enough for Dr Jackson to attempt to placate the agitated gathering. The whole community had turned up for this meeting, held in the centre of the village while the morning sun began its climb up the sky. Scanning faces, huts, trees and the small part of the beach he could see with its azure water, Teal'c recalled his first impression of this planet being that it was a paradise. He'd been wrong and appearances were dangerously deceptive.

They needed to leave here and if an attack on the village drew enough of the beasts from their lair to be killed, then all well and good. It would make an attempt to find and retrieve the missing crystal much easier. Teal'c wished no harm on these people and would do his utmost to prevent any from happening, but he was still aware of the necessity of repairing the DHD.

Of course, that was assuming they would prevail in such a battle. The myth that the beasts had defeated and killed a goa'uld, and his or her Jaffa, was not reassuring. The outcome would depend on numerous factors; how many of the beasts there were left and any weapons that Janth's people possessed, just as Dr. Carter had suggested. He sought her out and caught her watching O'Neill with worried eyes. Turning his head, O'Neill caught her too and, flushing, she jerked her gaze elsewhere. O'Neill appeared unable to follow suit as swiftly.

Eyebrow rising at the byplay, he tuned back in to the meeting. He had been paying enough attention to keep abreast of developments and was aware that Dr Jackson had made little headway in convincing the Tahatans to stand up to their false gods. Tauman was stricken into silence at having welcomed strangers into their midst, ones who had soon after brought doom to his people. There was weeping amongst the women; children who would usually be full of curiosity and laughter were subdued and visibly afraid.

The men were afraid as well, but as usually happened, that fear was turning into anger directed at the wrong outlet. The priest spun on Dr Jackson, getting too close. O'Neill and Dr. Carter reacted instantly, bringing up their weapons to defend him if necessary. The decision to intercede was not made lightly, but having made it, he acted on it immediately.

"You sacrifice your old people, and the crippled, to false gods." His voice carried effortlessly over the rest. "Do you not realise that all of you are already marked for death? Who among you can say that you will never fall into either group?"

There was silence. Then the priest stood at his full height and with the fire of a zealot clear in his eyes, said, "Tangola made us with his own hands. We are his from our first breath and our death sustains him. The young and healthy live without fear as long as that cycle remains unbroken and we observe custom."

"You lie," Teal'c countered baldly, "How can you not fear the first signs of age to appear on your face and bodies, or a fall that damages you?"

Dismissively, he turned from the priest and addressed King Tauman, "You are all slaves and if you ever want to be free you must listen to my friends." Seeing the first glimmer of hope in that elderly face, the only one in the village, Teal'c offered up something of himself to strengthen it. "I, too, once worshipped a false god that enslaved my people. I am free and yet my people are not because they are afraid. Even so, I fight to free them even now."

"We can help you," Daniel Jackson inserted earnestly.

"If you let us," added Dr. Carter.

"Gods cannot die!" The priest all but howled.

"Exactly, you moron," O'Neill snapped, "Those things bleed and die. We killed two of 'em down there. What does that tell you about your so-called gods?"

Having all said their piece, they had no choice but to wait for a judgement. They didn't have to wait long. King Tauman rose to his feet, graceful despite his age and walked into the centre to stand in front of O'Neill. Shifting uncomfortably, the Tauri commander nevertheless returned his solemn gaze. "What you say about the gods hurts and saddens me, Colonel Jack," he said softly. "But only because I have sent many beloved ones down to the marae, believing they were returning to their creator."

"You didn't know otherwise," returned O'Neill, "But now you do, don't you?"

"You will stand with us against the demons?"

"They're not demons," O'Neill stated unequivocally, "just big fur balls with teeth and, yeah, we'll stand with you."

The air itself seemed to tremble on the edge of a precipice. King Tauman nodded, "Then we will make a stand," he slid a glance towards Teal'c, "and fight for our freedom."

Teal'c bowed his head, acknowledging the courage it took to turn your back on a lifetime of belief, shaken at times or not.

They discussed the option of simply tossing a few grenades into the cave mouth. It would certainly have been the easiest and safest option. The problem was they needed that crystal now more than ever following a report from a regretful General Hammond that their attempts to procure crystals had failed. Without knowing precisely which one it was that had been taken, they needed them all and removing them shut down the wormhole. In other words, they were on their own.

The good news was that they were able to send a list of requested supplies— chiefly ammo and explosives, more grenades, claymores and C4, and surprisingly to General Hammond, pick axes, spades and various other tools.

Trained reinforcements would have been nice, but in the absence of a guarantee of returning home, Jack didn't even ask.

SG-1 and the village men dug pits, lots of them, with sharpened stakes hammered into the bottom. The sounds of chopping wood, staff blasts to create craters in the ground and implements hitting the earth rang out a cacophony of industry. The women and children gathered firewood until there were mountains of sticks threatening to topple. In between that task, they fetched and carried water to the thirsty. Other men skilled in the art of tool making, made fresh spear heads and poles to attach them to, as well as sharpened the pile of machetes at their feet.

Dosed up with Penicillin, Jack did a final check of the stakes at the bottom of one pit. Satisfied the trap was as deadly as it was supposed to be, he grasped the rope that would let him climb out. Aware that if he fell back he'd get impaled, he ignored the sweat pouring down his back and the trembling weakness in his arms, and monotonously hauled himself up, only to be met near the top by a strong, female hand. She'd done that a few times during the day and always just when he wasn't sure if his strength was going to last out.

Grasping it, he let Carter take his weight and felt himself effortlessly pulled to safety. The move caused them to brush up close for a second before they could step apart. Feeling the imprint of that supple body long after they separated, Jack took the water bottle she offered him and thanked her with a short nod.

Blue eyes, bright, brisk and with only a trace of concern watched him take a long draught of the refreshing water. "I've rigged up a series of claymores around the outer perimeter," she told him. "And set up the C4 just inside in case we miss any, which we probably will given they're unlikely to attack in groups."

He squinted into the lowering sun, vaguely surprised that dusk was falling. "Are the women and kids inside?"

She nodded, completely unaware that her gold hair shone like an angel. Moreover, an angel with a light dusting of fresh freckles over her nose after catching the sun. Tamping down an urge to tip up her chin and count them, Jack felt a flush rise up from his neck and turned away to hide it, pretending he was checking on the rest of the village.

He obviously hadn't hid it fast enough. "Are you okay, Colonel?" she asked.

Turning back with a sigh, he said, "I'm fine. Stop your fretting." Handing over the bottle, he followed his next impulse, "And call me Jack."

He'd surprised her. Their eyes met and he could clearly see the light of astonishment, followed by pleasure come into hers. "Thank you. I will," she said and unwittingly bestowed a smile on him that had his heart tripping. God! She was one gorgeous woman, and strong, capable, smart, courageous and passionate, particularly about saving lives. He'd been an ass to pre-judge her like her had.

"Good." Uncomfortable with the sense of something growing, swelling between them, he nodded and left it that.

She felt it too and jerked a thumb towards the village proper. "Well, I'd probably better…"

"Yeah, you go ahead, I'll be along shortly." He'd follow when their kiss, the one that scorched him from the top of his head right down to his toes, stopped trying to do a rerun in his head.

She gave him another smile, briefer if no less potent and turned to go.

Watching her go, he had no idea what possessed him to blurt out, "West deserved an ass-kicking."

She halted and spun back, "Excuse me?"

Eyes wide, she looked like she was struggling to believe he'd said that about a superior officer. He could have told her he could give her a run for her money on not following orders and insubordination. He shrugged, trying to pass off the moment as less important and ground breaking than it was. "The Air Force lost a fine officer when you resigned. I just wanted you to know I see that now." Pausing, he grimaced, "For a while, actually, I was just too much of a stubborn dumbass to admit it."

She reached for composure, found it and cloaked herself, but didn't try and hide how moved she was. He admired her even more for that. He was a coward when it came to emotions. "That means a great deal to me, Jack," she said, the words having more impact for being simple and unvarnished. "Thank you."

The scream was so unexpected, and alien to the emotions currently charging the air between them, it took a second to sink in. Sam went pale, "Did you—?"

"Yeah," he confirmed, "C'mon."

Together they sprinted towards where the sound had come from. Jack was cursing and praying they hadn't been misled about Janth's monsters preferring the dark of night. Pelting across the centre of the village and skirting the hut full of women and children, they caught up with Daniel.

"Any idea what the problem is?" he asked him.

Daniel just shook his head and they carried on. "Be careful of the explosives," Sam shouted over to them both as they approached the tree line opposite, "Let me lead."

Dropping back to let her do exactly that, it wasn't long before they arrived at the point where everyone had gathered. They approached from the opposite side and found that everyone was staring up at a tree, at something that could only be seen once they rounded the twisted trunk. Teal'c was already there and for once he wasn't impassive. The grim expression on that tight, dark face gave Jack the heebie-jeebies more than the scream had done.

Oh crap! What now?

They rounded the tree together. "What is it?" he asked Teal'c and looked at the same time. What he saw pole-axed him. "God, No!"

Daniel began to retch. Sinking to her knees, Sam gave a moan of distress. Tula's lifeless, bloodied body was roped to the tree that lay directly in the path from the cave to the village. It was like seeing a flame wink out. In death the little girl had found horror and it remained in sightless eyes staring out of a waxen face.

"The body has been mauled to look like one of the creatures killed her," said Teal'c in a monotone. "Perhaps the killer wanted us to think they are already here and we cannot see them, hence undermining our attempts to convince the villagers they are not gods, or demons."

"Either that or they wanted to leave a placatory message for the creatures. After all, Tula was with us inside the caves. She saw what we did." Face tight with rage and oblivious to the streaming tears that made tracks down her cheeks, Sam rose to her feet with both fists clenched. "I'm going to kill that bastard. I _swear_, he'll feel every second of the same pain and fear he inflicted on that innocent girl."

Jack felt the same rage suffuse him. It didn't take a genius to guess who was responsible. Only one of the Tahatans had spent the day performing rituals, eyes burning with hatred as he watched the village prepare to defend itself. The priest must have decided a stronger approach had to be taken.

Sick sonavabitch!

Sam was shaking, no, vibrating with murderous wrath. He understood, but now wasn't the time. "Cut her down and wrap her in something," he ordered Teal'c, and then grasped Sam's shoulder to force her to look at him and not the dead child. He had to shake her once to achieve that aim.

"Sam!" he demanded, voice sharper than he would have liked.

Blue eyes swimming with horror and baffled rage latched onto his. "We saved her, didn't we?"

His throat went tight, "_You_ did."

"For this?" her voice cracked, asking him to help her understand

Everything that had happened the day before had come about because of her determination to protect a child from monsters waiting in the dark. None of them had known that another horror waited for the kid in her own village. The sense of uselessness, fate and failure was exactly what the bastard had wanted them to feel; Jack would have sworn to it.

"We're not psychic, Sam. None of us knew he'd even come back, never mind had this planned," he told her. "If we had, he'd be dead now and Tula would be safe with her parents."

She was stiff as a board under his hands and he wondered if she'd splinter apart if he let her go. Bitterness flooded her face, "Shit happens, right?" Then shaking herself, she stepped back and his arms dropped.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asked her in all seriousness.

"I'm fine," she lied. "And I'll be even better when all of this is over." She met his concerned gaze squarely, "For the record, I'm warning upfront that I won't be leaving here until he's dead."

She didn't say, by my hand, but it was inferred. Nodding, Jack didn't tell her over his dead body. Defending yourself in battle was a galaxy away from murder, even when it was justified. He knew that from personal experience. He also knew she hadn't come across that particular darkness yet, and didn't intend for her to find it here; he'd kill the bastard himself first.

Tula was gone, carried in Teal'c's arms. Leaning down to grab Daniel's arm, Jack hauled him up and included both of them when he said, "C'mon, kids, like it or hate it we've got a battle to finish preparing for. Justice will have to wait a little longer."

TBC


	5. Chapter 8 & 9

PART EIGHT

Daniel felt useless, and hated it almost as much as the fact that he'd emptied his guts on the ground, instead of reaching out to comfort his friends. Jack had done that, and done it pretty damned well. As if trying to make up for that lack on his part, he'd assisted with the preparation of Tula's body for the funeral fire. He was the one who ended up approaching Jack on using some of the firewood for the pyre. The Tahatans never put off a funeral; in the heat of the day, and even the night, leaving a body was to allow the flesh to putrefy—something that was taboo.

Jack had been dealing with some last minute preparations when Daniel approached and waited. When he was done and alone again, he turned to him and said, "You're thinking too much, Daniel. Stop it, that's an order."

There was a coldness in those dark eyes that transported Daniel back a year. Back to the SGC the first time around, when he'd turned around and found himself facing a man who embodied the ruthless indifference he'd always hated about the military. He hadn't known at the time that the automaton part of Colonel Jonathan 'Jack' O'Neill only appeared when he was strangling a whole bunch of emotions. Back then, it had been grief over the death of his son. Now, he guessed it had to do with the senseless murder of a little girl, thrown in with the peril to his team and a whole bunch of people he'd shouldered the responsibility of protecting.

Daniel chuckled, a dry mirthless sound, and realised Jack was right; he was over thinking and all over the same thing.

"I'm sorry, Jack," he said and spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "I should have listened to you."

The mask didn't crack. O'Neill merely cocked his head, "I'm constantly telling you that and you have an irritating habit of proving me wrong. What's so different this time?"

"If we'd left when you said, none of this would have happened."

"Ah," was the reply, "What is it with you and Sam about hindsight, today?" Jack didn't wait for him to reply, "Look, you laid out a case and I accepted it. It's the best we can do." He shrugged, "Stargate travel is a risk, and this mission proves that the risk isn't always just to us."

Having said that, he bent down and picked up an MP5. After checking that the gun's magazine was fresh and the safety was on, he pushed it into Daniel's hands.

"What are you saying?" Daniel asked, "That we shouldn't let that bother us?"

Irritation chased some of the cold away temporarily. "No, Daniel. I'm saying that we fix things here and next time we make sure we have the local folklore straight before we go diving into any dark places. It's called a learning curve. I'm sure yours is practically vertical."

"Oh!" Back to feeling like an idiot, Daniel shook himself and got to the point of his coming over. "They need some of the wood for a funeral pyre for Tula."

Jack was taken aback, "_Now_?!"

"It's their custom not to wait. I don't think we should get in the way of this one."

Now the mask cracked a little. Daniel watched as dislike of the idea chased its way over Jack's face. "Oh fer…," hauling a breath, he grimaced and waved a hand at one of the wood piles, "Fine. Tell them to take what they need. I guess a fire's a fire when what we need is light."

"I guess you're right," agreed Daniel dully, turning away with the rifle clutched in his hands.

Tension and nerves left a pall over the village as night-time enveloped them in a shroud of menacing, smothering black, coated with a thin veneer of silver from the full moon. The hissing crackle of the numerous fires drowned out a lot of noise, leaving only the occasional terrified, muffled weeping to seep out of the communal hut. The inability to hear any approach was nerve-wracking, but a necessary trade-off for being able to see.

Tula's pyre provided the most light. Sam kept her back to it with the transmitters for the claymores and C4's firmly in her grasp. The claymores were set to go off if they were tripped, but she had an override if necessary. Sitting inside a triangle of overturned canoes with the rest of her team, she blocked out the acrid smell of burning flesh and kept her attention where it was needed, focused on the forest and Colonel O'Neill.

Jack, she corrected herself with a pang.

No matter how much her logical, scientific mind insisted she dismiss it as lunacy, Sam couldn't quite forget the sorrow in Janth's face when he warned her about what might happen to the man next to her; the same one who could very well end up holding their lives in his hands. After an internal debate that still resulted in no definitive answers, she made the decision to stick close to him when she could. So had Teal'c and between them they'd watched, and in her case dreaded, any sign of…madness, or whatever the heck else might happen.

The not knowing was driving her crazy. In her pocket, she had a syringe full of enough sedative to down an elephant, if it became necessary.

Not that she believed in things that went bump in the night, she assured herself. What she did believe in, however, was being prepared for all eventualities, no matter how bizarre. She hadn't believed Tula was in danger and look how that had turned out. Pain and guilt bloomed. Like Jack had said, justice would have to wait for its turn after survival was accomplished.

Jack…

She didn't want to think about what she'd have to do if the insane happened; if she had to use the sedative, and it didn't work. But she forced herself to and figured dealing with the pain of that action would take a lot of working through before it eased, if it ever did. Damn! Why did she always fall in love with the ones that made a vortex seem stable? As awful as it sounded, at least to her, she'd realised the exact state of her emotions and feelings for O'Neill on the numb walk back to the village, with his arm supporting the small of her back and refusing to be put off by her stiff shoulders and cold silence; coming straight after the nightmare of finding Tula, it had been a blow. Sam had wanted to deny it, had been desperate to in the circumstances, but she hadn't had the strength left.

It was, she realised, a little pathetic that her defences had crumbled almost the instant he'd changed his attitude to her. For Sam, the single saving grace was that no one else but her knew it, or that she had feelings for him. Somewhere between the start of this mission and today, grudging respect and unwilling attraction had slowly morphed into something powerful and gut-wrenching. That had been the slow crumble. Today had finished the job. Basically, he'd offered support and held her up just because he could. Needing it or not, she'd loved him for that.

Of course, none of that would matter if they didn't survive the night.

Comforting thought…not.

Seconds, minutes, hours ticked by with nothing happening except for nerves being slowly and remorselessly stretched. Then, dangerously, boredom set in. Seeing spots from staring at nothing for too long, Daniel took off his glasses and rubbed his aching eyes. He was doing that a lot he realised, and made a mental note to get a check-up.

"I don't know about you guys," he said, slipping the glasses back into place, "But this waiting is driving me crazy. Has anyone considered that we might be wrong in believing anything this…whatshisname…Janth told Sam?"

"And that would be called the best case scenario," Jack pointed out dryly. "Personally, I won't mind having egg on my face come morning if nothing happens."

"If you're getting bored you can always add more wood to the fires," he suggested, adding tongue-in-cheek, "The one closest to the tree line is getting a bit low."

"Oh, hah hah!"

"I know what you mean, Daniel," Sam intervened with a brief flashing smile in his direction. "The trick is to keep your line of sight moving, and try to keep your mind occupied without losing focus."

O'Neill shrugged, "I just empty mine."

Teal'c's "As do I," saved him from some smart remarks about empty being his usual state of mind.

"Do you ever _get_ bored, Teal'c," asked Jack, genuinely curious and to cover his own edgy nerves.

"No."

"Never?"

"No."

"Cool."

An explosion to their left, followed by another two, one after the other, brought the conversation to a grinding halt.

Sighting the rifle towards where the first boom had come from, Sam said tersely, "That was the claymores, guys. I think we can forget about eggy faces."

"Ah, well, that officially ends my boredom," quipped Daniel, picking up his MP5 with suddenly slippery hands. It didn't go unnoticed.

"Careful which way you point that," said O'Neill, not looking at him as he did the same as Sam, "I don't want to have to explain getting shot in the butt by friendly fire."

"I'll do my best," retorted Daniel, adopting the same position and praying he was only joking, "But no promises."

The forest seemed to erupt. Counting them was impossible, because out in the open they were simply too damned fast. Shooting at them was also tricky for the same reason. Within seconds of first being sighted they were gone as if they'd never been. "Clever bastards!" muttered Sam tightly, ceaselessly searching through the rifle's scope for even a hint of one. "They're inside the perimeter now, except instead of charging, they've gone to ground. Smart, very smart."

Gun smoke drifted between them. Jack swore. He had a feeling Sam was right and a smart critter was a dangerous one, besides the teeth. Also, his ankle was itching like crazy again, inside and out, and climbing his damn leg. What the hell was that about?! Something close to fear skittered up his spine.

"Blow the C4, too," he ordered.

She looked askance at him, but didn't waste time with a protest. A push of a button set of another round of explosive booms that hurt both eyes and ears. The tree line on all sides, already set back from their efforts earlier in the day, disappeared in a wall of pluming, mushrooming fire. Balls of howling flame catapulted inwards and were met with a hail of bullets.

"Good call, Colonel," shouted Sam, aiming to be heard over the clamour, "It looks like they were coming in waves and we just caught the second one."

"Jesus! It's like being stuck in Dante's inferno," yelled Daniel.

The C4 had done more than blow up some of the enemy, it also acted like floodlights illuminating the whole area between the burning forest and the village perimeter.

"I see them," yelled Sam, "Dead ahead."

They all did. It was a bit hard to miss the hunched shapes that gave up on crawling closer on their bellies and started to hurtle straight at them.

By the sounds from the rear, the same was happening back there, too. Firing with studied precision, Jack warned, "Brace yourselves, kids. This is where it gets interesting."

Squeezing off short bursts exactly as he'd been instructed, Daniel found himself getting sucked in by the simple act of seeking, shooting until something went down and then searching for another target. The fact that the targets were getting dangerously close barely impinged on his consciousness, until a hard hand yanked him up by his vest strap and hauled him backwards. Staff blasts kept up a repeated backdrop as Jack, face red and eyes blazing, yelled, "I said fall back, Daniel. Do it _now_!"

Scrambling over the canoes, they ran at full pelt for the fall-back position; further on, there were more canoes arranged to give them an unlimited field of vision. By the time they reached it, the creatures had already skirted their first one. By the sounds of their savage, reverberating snarling, they were pissed at being thwarted of victims. Jack, Daniel, and finally Teal'c vaulted over and landed inside. "Fire in the hole," hollered Sam as she lobbed a grenade. The first set of canoes was blasted to hell along with a number of the beasts.

Jack whirled in time to see a pair sneaking up behind them from inside the village. He let rip, as did Daniel who turned at his shouted warning. "God! How many of them are there?" he yelled, trying not to feel hopeless.

From all around screams, moans and blood curdling snarls joined the gunfire and the crackle of burning wood. "Just keep shooting until I tell you to stop," snapped Jack. The automaton was fully in charge. Going down on one knee, he kept up a methodical line of fire that managed to stem the tide. Sam and Teal'c set themselves up at their backs and did the same from the opposite direction. It was less easy now as humans raced by, running from things that leapt and tore at their throats.

Wherever she looked, Sam saw mangled bodies. She wasn't sure but she thought she saw a man, minus most of his legs, desperately crawling away to hide, and die. Swallowing back bile and terrified of what she'd see, she risked a quick glance towards the communal hut and relaxed, seeing that the men guarding it had not given way; the creatures it seemed were more interested in the outer defenders initially. That strategy showed an intelligence that was frightening if she stopped to think about it. She didn't.

Catching something furtive out of the corner of her eye, Sam whirled to face the threat just as one of the creatures leapt at her. She got a flash of hate-filled eyes, gnashing teeth and then a massive, blood streaked underbelly. Still squeezing the trigger, she went down under its weight, managing to jam the MP5 into that snapping mouth before it could complete its lunge for her face. It was impossibly strong and suffocatingly heavy. The rifle began to crumple and her arms were nearly pulled out of her sockets trying to hold on. Certain she was doomed and expecting to feel the agonising rip of something sharp, the next thing she knew it was being flicked off her. It landed a few feet away and twisted itself back on its feet frighteningly fast. Looking up, she saw Teal'c spin his staff weapon back around to blast it mid-flight.

There was no time for thanks or shock. Rolling back to her feet, she yanked out her side-arm and began firing.

Time had no meaning inside the village, only kill or be killed. Hours passed in a blur. As such, the sudden cessation of sound was shocking in itself; however, the silence wasn't complete. Sobbing, keening, moaning and all manner of human sounds of distress continued unabated, but the snarling had gone and with no targets left to shoot, so had the bursts of gunfire. Smoke drifted through the embattled village like grey-cloaked wraiths, their long wispy fingers curling around the dead with loving attention. Hearts pounding with adrenaline, wide, darting eyes stinging with the sweat that dripped down from their brows, the survivors waited for the scene to re-erupt, mocking the faint hope that it was over.

They'd become separated when the creatures changed strategy and directed their attention to the communal hut. The Tahatan men defending it did their best with flaming torches, spears and machetes to beat them back. Seeing them struggle, SG-1 had gone to join them.

Now, exhausted, they re-grouped. Daniel said it aloud first, "Is that it? Is it over?"

"No idea," muttered Jack "We can hope, but—"

"I'm all clear here," said Sam, wishing the ringing in her ears would stop. "I don't see anymore of them. What about you guys?"

"It would appear that the creatures have retreated," Teal'c added, "Although that may simply be a ruse designed to have us believing such and so dropping our guard."

"Okay," said Daniel, digesting that pessimistic statement. "So, now what do we do?" He still held the MP5 ready to fire, only now his arms began to tremble as reaction set in.

A hand pushed the rifle down, forcing him to relax his stance. "Now we wait for dawn," Jack told him. "If they don't attack again before then, I think it's safe to assume we've got them licked. Then we go find Janth and his people. I want that crystal back."

"If there are any people left to find," said Daniel, too tired to be logical about it, or realise the nerve he was stomping on. "Janth wasn't lying about the attack, so maybe he was telling the truth about that, too."

Pinning him with a filthy look, O'Neill bit back a retort and turned away, tossing over his shoulder as he did, "Try and get some rest. If anyone wants me, I'll be over there snacking on some little kids."

They watched him go and Daniel felt even worse when Sam and Teal'c stayed silent. Damn! "I forgot about that. Me and my big mouth, huh?"

Shoulders drooping, Sam sighed and raked a trembling hand through her hair to push it away from her face. "I'll go after him."

Teal'c stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm, "No, I will go."

The warning clear in his expression killed her protest before she could utter it. She knew what he was thinking; she was the one who'd started this suspicion when she'd come back from her meeting with Janth. Her company was probably the last thing Jack needed. Nodding, she stepped back to stand beside Daniel. "Let us know if you need us."

"I will do so, Dr. Carter." With that, he inclined his head and then strode after Colonel O'Neill.

Dawn had given way to clear blue skies. Chirpy birdsong and the hustle and bustle of nature in the treetops over their heads followed SG-1 as they made the trek once again towards the caves. After the night they'd just had, it was surreal to say the least. The closer they got, the grimmer they felt. It was a silent foursome that stopped beside the stream and stared at the body snarled in some shrubs on the other side.

There wasn't a great deal left of it. The tattoos running up the spine and radiating outwards was all the identification they needed. "Looks like he overestimated how pleased his gods would be with his gift," said Daniel, dispassionately.

Splashing over, O'Neill turned him over with one boot, twisting his lips in disgust at the sight of a man with half his face missing. They'd got him good. "Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy," he said without a shred of compassion.

When the others joined him, he looked over at Sam, recognising the regret that passed over her face that someone else had got to the priest first. "He got his just desserts."

"Justice has indeed been served," added Teal'c beside her.

They were each offering comfort in their own way. Touched, and forced to swallow back some swelling emotions, Sam kept it simple. "I know. Thanks, guys."

She was the first to turn away. "C'mon, let's get this over with."

With rope tied around their waists, O'Neill went first with Carter behind him. Teal'c remained at the top with Daniel. They were under explicit instructions to haul her back out if Carter gave them the instruction. Jack had wanted to go in alone, but Sam had given him a look that warned of upcoming insubordination if he didn't change his mind. Her argument that she had a better chance of negotiating with Janth than he did was also valid enough that he couldn't just dismiss it.

Daniel had been easier to argue with. This was a two-man job at most and Teal'c's strength was needed to pull Carter clear if they were attacked in the tunnel. He'd only agreed she could come along if she accepted his order to cut the rope between them if that happened.

It didn't and they reached the bottom without mishap. Two flashlights probed the darkness. "Clear" said Jack, relaxing when she echoed him. Cutting them and the backpack that had been dragging behind her free, Sam took out the MP5's and handed him his. Hefting it and checking the ammo, he took off the safety and held out his hand for the still heavy pack.

Instead of handing it over, she shrugged it on, saying, "I can handle it, Jack, unless you want me to take point?"

He didn't, so he didn't make an issue of the pack. Twenty minutes later they reached the fourth cave. Two things were obvious before they even reached it; there was no stone blocking the way, and there was a light source just beyond an entrance that had been worn smooth by lots and lots of time.

From beyond it came a scrape and a whistling whine of pain. Jack was reminded of his ex-neighbours old Labrador. At the time, he'd half wished he could convince the stubborn woman to have the poor animal put down. Now, he planned to do it himself. Signalling for them to move slowly and silently, Jack led the way. The entrance itself was wide enough for two to pass, but the other side was a single ledge with steep slopes dropping on both sides. Single file it was then. He signalled for her to keep low and keep her eyes peeled.

The ledge itself was a slope that quickly led to level-ground and a chamber that was… he struggled for a way to describe it, then settled for techno-primitive. Technology, that even he could recognise as being far more advanced than Earth's, seemed to meld with the rock walls. Someone long ago had tried to liven the place up with some plants; ferns and lichen clung and crept everywhere, covering everything they could. It stunk to high heaven as well. Breathing through their mouths to limit the assault on their nasal passages, they used their flashlights to help with a sweep, probing the darkest corners where the wash of unearthly blue light didn't reach.

There were man-sized pods lining every inch of wall, providing the only other light source in the cave. While Sam hunted for a power source, as excited as a kid in a candy store, Jack played the flashlight beam over each one as he passed and came up empty. The ones that weren't lit were cracked and rusted. A few of those gave him a bad moment or two when he saw gaping eye sockets glaring emptily back at him.

Stopping at one, Sam gave him a shock when she brushed up close. Jumping a mile high, he hissed in an embarrassed breath. Her sympathetic and mildly apologetic glance did little to make him feel better. Clamping down on an oath, he gestured towards the darkened pod with its bony remains.

"Malfunction?"

Bending down to examine the controls on the foot of it, she straightened after a few moments and said, "Possibly, or sabotage. I can't really tell with all the damage."

"Over the years, more than a few of us have given up on life and used the stasis chamber to end the misery." A new, and to Sam at least, semi-familiar voice intruded. There was something not just different, but wrong with that precise speech pattern.

They spun, fingers curled around the trigger of their MP5's, searching for a body to go with the voice. "Janth?" asked Sam, taking a step forward to try and find him. "Come out, we won't hurt you."

Something moved, seeming to detach itself from the shadows created by a dip in the rock floor. It shuffled closer, nervously skirting their lights until it could no longer avoid them. The tattered remains of a long tunic and cloak couldn't hide the horrific reality that the hologram had been designed to keep secret.

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Sam, the colour leeching from her face.

Jack felt his guts twist and try to turn inside out. _Oh Kerrist_!

PART NINE

They hadn't really believed it. Stargate travel through a wormhole was comprehensible because, while out of their realm, it was based on real, measurable and provable scientific foundations. Goa'uld's were aliens, so their ability to take hosts and heal the human body was accepted based on physical evidence. With Janth's claims, they hadn't had anything accept the word of a stranger on a strange world.

Now they believed.

If you looked really hard, you could still see the humanoid aspects of the figure crouched a dozen or so feet in front of them. Matted hair and a smooth brow led to eyes that were shaped like a human, but the irises were amber and ringed with red. The nose was wide and almost flat, above a lipless mouth and protruding jaw. "I'm sorry to distress you with my appearance," said Janth. "Believe me, I can appreciate how monstrous I must look now."

Bent arms and clawed hands had been hugged tight to a concave torso. Now, one of those hands scrabbled to find more tattered rags to pull over himself. His useless attempts to find more cover to hide hit Sam harder than anything else could have. Thoughtlessly, she moved closer. "Let us help you."

His reaction was startlingly instant. Yelping as spasms seemed to seize him from her proximity, Janth scrabbled back until he could go no further. "Do not come closer," he yowled. "Please, _please_ do not come any closer. I can control it better during the day, but you have to understand, your scent…" he trailed off with a whimper.

Appalled, they watched as bones seemed to shift and swell under yellowed skin. Sickened, Jack brought his gun back up and reached out to yank Sam back with him. She didn't resist. "Where are the rest of you?" he asked, going into a cold sweat at the idea of being cornered in here with a whole bunch of them. He'd had a taste of that the last time and wasn't keen on a repeat. Numb from the battle he hadn't really cared, but now, seeing this 'thing' that had once been a man, woke him up to a few facts. He wanted to kick his own ass for allowing Carter to come down here with him.

The trembling stopped enough for Janth to lift his head and answer bluntly, "They are all dead."

"_All_ of them?"

He nodded, "At night and especially during a full moon, we cannot retreat from the blood-lust once it is upon us. They kept attacking the village, and you, until there were no more left." Janth held up one of his arms so they could see the welts and open wounds marring the skin, "I restrained myself so that I could not follow the call."

It was what they'd hoped and yet…

"Now, see, that's what I don't get," said Jack, lowering the gun again only to toss up his hands, "Why don't you hold a grudge over that? They were your friends, your own kind."

"Why would I, when I am partly to blame?" was the question he received in return. "I knew that given sufficient warning you would be able to fend us off. I like to think that in their right minds, they would be glad to be delivered from this…" a claw took in the hell-hole they'd called home.

"You arranged this, didn't you?" Sam realised, "That's why you got all confessional."

"They were planning to attack the village anyway, for the reasons I told you. I simply took advantage of an opportunity to end our reign of terror," he admitted. Coming from who it did, the statement held a trace of nobility that was oddly poignant. "We should have ended it long ago, but unfortunately the instinct to survive is a stubborn and powerful one."

"We can help you if you let us," Sam repeated her earlier offer, ignoring Jack's look of sheer disbelief. She hadn't figured out how yet, but she was willing to give it a try.

"You cannot help me," Janth countered sadly. His head tipped back, the eyes closing as the raspy, grating voice grew stronger, "We were left with all the equipment we would need to try and reverse the change and failed. It is irreversible. Once the code has been altered, it cannot be changed back. Worse, it is like a disease itself, encroaching more each time we transformed. Eventually, we gave up hope and what little humanity we had left."

"What about me?" asked Jack stiffly, sly tendrils of horror and fear snaking between each vertebrae of his spine, "Am I gonna turn into something like you?" The time when he could deny and reject the idea as ludicrous was well and truly over.

At his question, those eyes opened once again and seemed to suck him in while Janth stared at him silently. "It has been 36 hours now, has it not?" At his nod, the matted head with the too long neck, tilted thoughtfully. The scientist buried in the broken man was still very much alive. "What are your symptoms?"

"My heel itches, so does my leg," Jack forced himself to say with a shrug that belied his tension. "And I had a fever the night you took Carter."

The eyes blinked. "That is all?"

Sweat broke out on Jack's back and his heart was thudding with a terror the likes of which he had never felt before. Training and his own contrary nature made him hide it and he shrugged again. "Yeah, that's all."

"Strange," said Janth, clearly surprised, "and you come across as an aggressive man. An alpha male if ever I saw one."

After the sweat, horror and sheer bloody murder of the last few days, Jack abruptly forgot about training and simply lost it. "Excuse me? Can I have a decoder ring here? What the hell are you talking about?" By the end, his voice was hoarse enough to crack. He made a move, as if about to stride over, but checked himself. "Will you stop with the damn riddles and just spit it out for crying out loud. Am I okay, or not?!"

If he could have, he would have made his feelings on the subject a heckova lot clearer. As it was, he wasn't insane enough to risk another bite. His trigger finger got itchy though.

"I cannot give you a definitive answer, Colonel," replied Janth, gasping as he was seized by another, stronger spasm that had him writhing on the floor. Thinking that he was actually going to lose the battle, O'Neill jerked his head to Sam to edge over to the exit. Thankfully it passed. When it was over, it left Janth weak. Tiredly, he warned, "And please control your temper. Like hunger, negative emotions can bring out the worst in me."

"Why did you bring aggression into it?" asked Sam, trying to understand, "Does that affect the process?"

"After we realised our colossal mistake and began to monitor those affected we found the more aggressive the personality, the quicker the change. The fact that your angry friend here is showing little symptoms over a longer period of time…well, let us just say it is a good sign," having said that, he warned, "But, you will not know for certain until the full 48 hours have passed."

Sam looked over at Jack, hope unfurling at the positive news. She saw some of the tension leave his body—some, but not all. She understood. None of them could completely relax until every doubt was erased and only time would do that. Thankfully, it was a short time. By dusk tonight they'd know and she had a feeling in her gut that she wouldn't be needing the sedative, or the more drastic measures she'd been dreading.

In the middle of a bout of cautious optimism, she recalled the Tahatans and their wounded. Her mind wiped, unable to guess how many could now be at risk of this nightmare. "Jack," she said urgently, "The wounded."

His shooting glance and brief shake of his head told her he'd already considered it. Then he turned back to Janth to ask, "Where does this leave you? You're alone now. What will you do?"

His expression was carefully blank, but Janth saw through it and chuckled, "You do not have to worry, Colonel. I have already made arrangements to end my life and destroy any and all possible contagion left by us. Everything you see here will be gone. Your arrival gave me the final impetus I needed and I thank you for that. Despite appearances, I feel somewhat human again. A feeling I thought never to regain."

Guessing what he meant, Jack relaxed enough to say calmly, "Don't mention it. Except before you do whatever it is you plan to, I'd like the crystal back for the DHD."

"Will you swear to me that you will not attempt to leave this planet until it is certain that you are not afflicted?"

"You have my word," said Jack. "Trust me, the last thing I want is a bunch of you guys around, tearing up the local Wal-Mart. And the same goes for the Tahatans, too, if any survived being mauled." He looked at Sam when he finished with, "We'll do whatever we need to do to contain this and make sure it ends with you."

FOUR DAYS LATER

General Hammond heard the knock on his door and despite the briefing only being over an hour ago, he knew who it was. "Come in," he called out and folded his hands to rest on top of his desk. Exactly as he'd expected, Jack O'Neill stepped through and then shut the door behind him. Regardless of the ordeal he'd just been through, his 2IC looked the way he was beginning to suspect was normal for him; a spare wheel without his gun, a mission and somebody to argue with.

He restrained his smile, just barely. "Stand easy, son."

The stiffly held frame relaxed back into a rangy grace that suggested, or rather mislead, an observer into thinking he was harmless, "Thank you, sir."

"You've been through a hell of an ordeal, Jack. I told you to go home and rest. Do I have to make it an order?"

"Ah, no, General, you don't, and I'm just on my way."

"Well, thanks for stopping by to say farewell."

Grimacing, O'Neill dipped his head to look at his boots, "That's not precisely why I'm here, sir."

"No?" Hammond quirked a brow "Then what is it?"

"It's about Dr. Carter, General. I just wanted to let you know that I'm happy to keep her on the team." With both hands shoved into his pockets, he shrugged, "She comes in handy occasionally."

"Oh, she does, does she?" George, not fooled for a minute by the nonchalance, began to enjoy himself. He sat back and tapped his fingers together. "I noticed she gave you a few odd looks during the briefing. Skip a few details did you, Colonel?"

Not that he could imagine what else could have gone wrong without anybody being culpable for it; so much tragedy that even in hindsight had been unavoidable. Despite that, he knew most of his flagship team held themselves responsible, not the least of which for the fatalities amongst the natives. He held a report in his hand from Dr Frasier that confirmed that some of the Tahatans had poisoned themselves rather than risk turning into something less than human. They would never know if that had been necessary or not. He didn't relay that information; it could wait until after they'd had some time to recover. He would be surprised if they didn't already suspect it.

On the other side of his desk, unaware of the things passing through his superior's mind, Colonel O'Neill feigned innocence, "Not in the least, General. You know me, straight as a dye. I would never do that." He paused, thinking about it, "Abydos was the single only ever exception to that, I _swear_."

"Good to hear," Hammond coughed, "And yes, I do know you, Jack, and just a little more than you think."

"Sir?"

"Never mind." Hammond waved a hand towards his door, "Go and take that leave, Colonel, and I'll see you in two weeks."

Daniel ambushed him outside the General's door. He was lounging against the opposite wall and straightened when Jack stepped out.

"Daniel," he greeted, with a question in his tone, along with a dose of resignation.

In response, Daniel waved a hand at the door he'd just exited from. "Anything for us to worry about?"

They began to walk down the corridor. "No," said Jack. "I was merely advising the General that I'm happy to keep the team as it is."

"Oh, so, does that mean you're seeing Sam as more than a geek now?"

The signs were all there—wide eyes, hands in pockets, blandness in every line. Jack wasn't buying it, "Don't start on me, Daniel."

Daniel pretended not to know what he was talking about. "Start what?"

"Whatever it is you mistakenly think you want to start when you _really_ don't," he countered.

"Okay," Daniel conceded, "But, you do know this is the direction to Sam's lab, right?"

They stopped outside it. "Since we're here, I'd have to be dumb to deny that fact." He held up a hand, "I may not be the brightest bulb in this particular box, but that doesn't mean I avoid all labs."

Following him in, Daniel muttered sotto voice, "Just most of them."

"Hey guys," said Sam brightly, blinking when Teal'c turned up a few moments later. Her smile turned quizzical, "Okay, what am I missing here?"

Teal'c quirked a brow, "If you are searching for something, I am happy to assist. However, as I understand it, O'Neill wishes for us all to eat."

There was a confused pause, "Eat what?" asked Sam.

"Anything," said Jack, "Although I have a hankering for some Mexican myself." He shrugged, "I just figured you guys might be hungry for some good ole' Tauri food after being in quarantine for the last four days."

Sam was nonplussed, "You want us to all go out to a restaurant?"

"Yeah, I think we deserve a little fun now and then, breaks up the mayhem."

Their eyes met and a frisson of awareness rocked her to her toes. They'd been through hell and back with the last mission. The worst part had come after the battle; Janth had been as good as his word and they'd heard and felt the explosion that destroyed the caves, sealing them for good. That hadn't been the end of it though. After that, they'd brought in a medical containment team. No matter what they'd been expecting, it hadn't been to find all of the wounded dead on the second day of quarantine. The rows of white shrouded bodies waiting to be burnt would stay in her mind, all of their minds, for a very long time.

She could see it in his eyes, along with a plea that she go along with his plan; he needed this as an antidote to the horror and wanted it for them all. Sam didn't have to force herself. She really wanted to go. Before she'd even thought it through, she was taking off the safety goggles and turning around to shut down her laptop. Work could wait. "Lead the way," she said, "Although, I need to get changed first."

His smile, complete with dimples, did all kinds of weird things to her stomach. "No problem, we have time."

"Uh, no, we don't actually. I have work, Jack—" Daniel began.

Leading the way out the door, Jack cut in, "You **had** work. Now you have fun, Daniel. That's an order."

The banter continued all the way down the corridor and Sam's grin just got wider with every word of snark not aimed her way. Their first team night out was off to a great start.

THE END


End file.
